Coming Home to You
by Heavenli24
Summary: Six months can feel like an incredibly long time when one is deployed overseas. Sequel to I'm Giving It All To You. Second in the Second Chances Series
1. Chapter 1

**Title** : Coming Home to You  
 **Pairing:** Logan/Veronica  
 **Rating** : Mature

 **Summary:** Six months can feel like an incredibly long time when one is deployed overseas. Sequel to I'm Giving It All To You

 **Author's Notes:** Apologies for taking so long to start posting this. I originally intended to get it up in July, but I was busy writing for the July challenges at the same time, and then real life got in the way a bit and it ended up being pretty slow-going. I will try to update regularly, but I can't guarantee it will be every week at the moment.

* * *

 **Chapter One**

Logan's been on the ship for three days when he finds it. It's Sunday morning and he's in the gym, iPod on shuffle, warming up lightly on the treadmill when out of nowhere, he hears her voice.

"Hey, Logan."

"Veronica?" He stiffens, head shooting up, eyes glancing around frantically.

Of course, she's not here; the only other people in the gym are a couple of guys using the weights machines over in the corner.

"So, this is really strange, talking to my laptop and not to you…" Her voice continues and Logan hits 'stop' on the treadmill, slowing his pace as he squints at the iPod in his hand.

"What the hell?"

"…but the idea came to me after reading one of those deployment forums," she's saying, "so here we go."

He presses the pause button and studies the small screen, blinking at the track title in incomprehension: _For When You Find This._

"Huh?"

Pulse quickening, he navigates back through his music, scanning quickly through the playlists. Sure enough, settled right between the Foo Fighters and Green Day, is a new playlist—one he knows he didn't upload—entitled: ' _For When You…_ '

He frowns. _If Dick's been messing around with my iPod again, I'll kill him._ Even as he thinks it, he knows it's not true, because… well, that was Veronica's voice.

Intrigued, he re-selects the playlist, mouth dropping open when he sees the track titles: _For When You_ _Feel Lonely_ , _For When You_ _Need Cheering up_ , _For When You Feel Pissed, For When You_ _Miss Me…_

Pressing his lips together to keep from grinning, he restarts the first track from the beginning.

"Hey, Logan." Her soft voice, so familiar, filters through his headphones again. "So, this is really strange, talking to my laptop and not to you, but the idea came to me after looking through one of those deployment forums, so here we go: I've made you a playlist to help you get through the next few months. If you're ever feeling like crap, or want a boost or whatever, just select the track that fits your mood and maybe it'll help." This time, Logan can't prevent the wide smile that spreads across his face. "Wherever you are right now, I hope you're doing okay. Stay safe, all right?" There's a pause before she speaks again, this time her tone containing a hint of flirtation. "Oh, and FYI, you might want to check your photo and video folders too. Uh, maybe not in public though."

His eyebrows rise at that.

 _Lord_ , _what have you been up to, Veronica?_

What's more, how did she get into his iTunes account? He puzzles over that for a second, before he remembers. _Of course._ He gave her his laptop password a few days ago, and he'd gone and left the thing in plain view in the beach house on Wednesday. He grins to himself, pressing stop and flicking through the playlist again, this time scrolling all the way to the bottom, his eyes widening comically when he sees the last couple of track titles.

 _Holy shit, Veronica._

"Uh, hey." A brusque voice from his left interrupts his thoughts. He looks up to find a short stocky guy with a buzzcut looking at him expectantly. "You gonna use the machine or what?"

A quick glance around the gym shows it has filled up in the last few minutes and most of the machines are occupied. Logan's tempted to abort his workout in favour of exploring the unexpected additions to his iPod, but he hasn't exercised properly since he stepped onto the carrier on Thursday, so he nods.

"Yeah. Sorry, man."

Pushing thoughts of Veronica to one side, he re-selects the programme on the treadmill and starts up his workout playlist. He can investigate the extent of Veronica's iPod meddling later.

Two hours later, when he's back in his stateroom, he slides up onto the top bunk and pulls out the iPod again, eagerly scrolling through the playlist again and clicking on a random track. He's been assuming she's made a selection of songs designed to fit his various moods, but when he hears nothing but her familiar voice, he realises this is something totally different.

She's recorded herself, just talking to him, telling jokes and anecdotes, reminiscing about the time they've spent together. It's really thoughtful… and kind of adorable. Fully aware he's not alone in the room—one of his bunkmates is lounging on the bunk opposite, reading a magazine—he forces himself not to grin stupidly, while also trying not to think about what the tracks entitled _For When You Want Me_ and _For When You're Horny_ might contain.

He waits until he's alone a few hours later to scroll through the photo and video folders. She's uploaded a couple of photos of them on the beach—ones she snapped when they were eating lunch and fooling around in the sand the other day—and there are a couple of her alone in the beach house too, wearing the outfit he declared his favourite a couple of weeks ago: that all-black, leather jacket ensemble.

There's another folder too, this one containing a collection of photos of her perched on his bed in the beach house in various states of undress. Nothing too revealing—because, unlike Dick, she's obviously aware that nude photos are a no-go—but they are definitely tantalising enough to get his imagination going. Even though a couple of them show her in her underwear, there's one photo in particular that catches his attention. She's clad in one of his white uniform shirts, only half-buttoned and sliding off one shoulder. His spare cover is perched on her head and her tousled hair flows over the other shoulder. She's pouting at the camera, a come hither look in her eyes, and it nearly undoes him.

After the photos, he's not sure what to expect from the videos, especially since he has no intention of breaking the military's strict 'no porn' policy, but seems he doesn't need to worry; she's just uploaded a few clips of herself talking to the camera, making quippy jokes, and telling him to be safe and to come back home. Just something to remember her by when he's feeling lonely, she says. He stops the videos before seeing too much of them, wanting to save them for another time—he has six long months to get through—and switches off the iPod.

As he lies back on his bunk, arms behind his head, and stares at the ceiling, he can't help but wish he'd done something similar for her too.

* * *

He doesn't get online until Monday evening. The first few days on the ship are always crazy busy, filled with finding his way around, attending all the briefings and figuring out what the hell he's supposed to be doing for the next six months. It's only his second long-term deployment, the first being right after he got his wings, and so while the work itself—the briefings, the flight planning, the flying—is all familiar, he hasn't had to coordinate it from the confines of the ship in more than 18 months.

When he logs into his account, he finds five emails from Veronica, the sight of her name on each one causing a strange sort of flip in his chest. He was hoping to hear from her, but he wasn't expecting five emails already.

* * *

 _From: vmars at aol. com  
_

 _To: logan. echolls at navy. mil  
_

 _Date: 21_ _st_ _Jan 2016 09:34 PST_

 _Subject: Just wanted to let you know…_

 _…. that as of 2 hours post-departure, your car is still running like a dream. Sadly could not check your house was still standing as was busy burning rubber down the PCH. Man, that BMW goes fast!_

 _Will keep you posted on the state of the tires when I get back from drag racing against the PCHers at the quarry tonight._

 _Missing you already,_

 _Veronica_

* * *

 _From:_ _vmars_ _at aol. com_

 _To:_ _logan. echolls at navy. mil_

 _Date: 22_ _nd_ _Jan 2016 11:03 PST_

 _Subject: RE: Just to let you know…_

 _Logan,_

 _Car is safe and well after its exploits at the quarry last night. You'll be pleased to know she won at the (drag) races._

 _Veronica_

* * *

 _From:_ _vmars_ _at aol. com_

 _To:_ _logan. echolls at navy. mil_

 _Date: 23_ _rd_ _Jan 2016 16:22 PST_

 _Subject: RE: Just to let you know…_

 _Car still fine, though the poor baby seems to be missing you. She wouldn't let me switch from your favourite radio station this morning, so I had to endure the dulcet tones of the Backstreet Boys all the way to the hospital :(._

 _Veronica_

 _P.S. How the hell do you work the sound system in your stupid car?_

* * *

 _From: vmars_ _at aol. com_

 _To:_ _logan. echolls at navy. mil_

 _Date: 24_ _th_ _Jan 2016 19:52 PST_

 _Subject: Taking it back…_

 _You know what? After driving Dad's old hunk of junk this morning, breaking down on the PCH and having to wait over an hour for the tow truck, I take back everything I said: yours is the best car ever – can I keep it?_

 _Veronica_

* * *

Logan chuckles at that, before sobering as his eyes scan over the email again. Veronica seems jovial enough, but he knows her…or at least he knows the Veronica of nine years ago. The lack of endearments after that first email, keeping the topic light, making jokes about his car…it's all textbook deflection. After the last couple of weeks together, he thought she was getting better with the whole expressing herself thing; or at least she said she was trying, but with his deployment thrown into the mix now, he can't say he's surprised she's reverting to form.

He clicks on the fifth email, relaxing a little when he sees it's longer than the others.

* * *

 _From: vmars at aol. com  
_

 _To:_ _logan. echolls at navy. mil_

 _Date: 25_ _th_ _Jan 2016 17:12 PST_

 _Subject: Life in Neptune_

 _Hey Logan,_

 _Hope all is shipshape on the…ship (yeah, yeah, bad pun, I know). Are you getting settled? Done any flying yet? I guess you're busy and can't check your emails right now._

 _Dad came home from the hospital today, but he's on strict bed rest, so I've got him set up in his bedroom with a TV and a couple of books about the Padres. He's not happy about it, but hey, them's the breaks._

 _Did some catching up with Wallace over lunch at Neptune High after I got back from San Diego—that was a surreal trip down memory lane; we even sat at our old table in the quad. Weevil came by the office in the afternoon to discuss his case. I feel bad for him, you know? He's worked so hard to stay clean and get his life together, and now Lamb and his corrupt deputies are ruining it all. Don't worry, I'm going to get to the bottom of this whole planting evidence thing, you mark my words._

 _As you've probably guessed, I'm going to re-open MI while Dad is out of commission. The plan is to get my licence back so I can be all official-like again. Mac's kind of working for us too, but only part-time since she's still at Kane Software._

 _So, that's pretty much it on this end._

 _Miss you and stay safe,_

 _Veronica_

* * *

Logan re-reads her words a couple of times, before opening a new message and composing a reply.

 _From:_ _logan. echolls at navy. mil_

 _To: vmars_ _at aol. com_

 _Date: 25_ _th_ _Jan 2016 22:41 PST_

 _Subject: RE: Life in Neptune_

 _Veronica,_

 _Sorry, I couldn't get online until tonight._

 _I'm glad your dad is home now. Hope he's making good progress._

 _Sorry about Weevil. I heard he went straight, got himself a wife and kid. We've always known the Neptune Sheriff's department is shady, right? But if anyone can take them on, it'll be a Mars (or two). Good luck with the PI license._

 _Let's set the record straight, shall we? I do not now, nor have I ever, listened to the Backstreet Boys. Come on, Veronica, you know N'Sync will always be my boys. BTW, you'll find the instructions for the sound system in the glove box._

 _Not surprised my baby won those drag races: she's awesome! But no, you can't have her, she's mine. Don't you hate shiny, expensive cars anyway?_

 _In other news, I discovered something interesting on my iPod yesterday…I'm sure you know what it was. I was in the gym at the time, so it was something of a surprise to hear your voice in my ear (and now I bet you're imagining me falling flat on my face on the treadmill…rest assured, that didn't happen)._

 _Thank you. As amazing as your snickerdoodles are (and Chaos and Bilbo agree wholeheartedly), hearing your voice and seeing your gorgeous face (and other parts of you) on my screen whenever I want, beats cookies any day._

 _Missing you too… I keep waking up and expecting you to be there with me, but alas I'm stuck in a single bunk bed in a tiny, metal room with five other men—two of whom snore loudly, and one who talks in his sleep._

 _Things are good here—no flying yet, just a load of drills, briefings and familiarisation exercises. We do have a few training flights planned this week though._

 _Not sure exactly where we are right now, but I know it'll take a few weeks to get where we need to be. Even if I did know, I couldn't tell you anyway._ _Or if I did tell you, I'd have to kill you_ _(yeah, okay, that was an ill-advised pun given the circumstances of our reunion)._

Logan pauses, fingers hovering over the keys. He feels awkward writing all this stuff down—he would much rather be able to talk to her in person. Glancing up at the Skype bookings calendar, then checking the schedule in his pocket, he does a couple of mental calculations, then returns to the email.

 _Are you free to Skype later this week? Say, Thursday, midnight your time? I can't guarantee that I'll make it—a pesky little thing like flying might get in the way—but I'll book the slot and hope for the best._

 _Speak soon,_

 _L_

Logan sits back in the chair with a sigh, running a hand through his hair. Is _Speak soon_ too formal? Should he tell her how much he misses her, how much he wants to touch her, to have her right here with him? No, he decides, that'll just make him sound needy and he doesn't want to scare her off. It's not like she's been overcome with declarations of love in her emails either. Maybe it's best to keep things light for now.

He hits send, then as a distraction, checks through the rest of his inbox, firing off a quick email to Dick and replying to a couple of work-related messages. After ten minutes of determinedly _not_ hitting refresh repeatedly to see if she's replied, he notices the time and realises how late it is in California. She's probably in bed already. Logging out of his account, he heads down to the Ready Room, where Chaos and a couple of their squadron-mates are getting in a heated debate over a card game.

* * *

When he briefly logs on to check his emails on Tuesday morning, there's a new message from Veronica.

 _From:_ _vmars_ _at aol. com_

 _To: logan. echolls at navy. mil_

 _Date: 25_ _th_ _Jan 2016 22:41 PST_

 _Subject: RE: Life in Neptune_

 _Midnight? Damn, what's a girl gotta do around here to get some beauty sleep?_

 _Just kidding—of course I'm free to Skype Thursday night. I'll be sitting by the_ _laptop, pining away, until then._

 _Talk to you soon,_

 _V_

 _P.S. I wondered how long it would take you to find your iPod surprise. Glad you like it._

 _P.P.S. N'Sync, huh? Guess I know what you'll be getting for Christmas this year_

* * *

As it turns out, Thursday is manically busy for Logan. His training sortie today—the third one this week—isn't until late afternoon, but with four briefings to attend before then, plus flight planning and the time needed to complete The Walk up to the flight deck, he's up and in the gym before 06:00 local. The carrier is somewhere in the middle of the Pacific now, which, from his calculations, means local time on the ship is about three hours behind California time.

His sorties have been straightforward so far; the weather has been good, the ocean calm, so it's just been a case of getting used to taking off and landing on the carrier again, because it's been months since he's had to launch from a runway only 700 feet long by 100 feet wide. Back on dry land, he has double the width and up to 10,000 feet of runway to play with, but here, no such luck. And of course, the ship is always moving, so not only does he have to concentrate on not crashing into the ocean, he also has to worry about the fact that the 'ground' is not even stationary while he's doing it.

The morning passes in a flurry of briefings and planning, followed by lunch and then even more planning, and finally at 1600 hours, he's suiting up for the sortie. It's only a 1.5-hour flight today, but when he goes to hit the head beforehand, he can't help but recall Veronica's comments the other day. He chuckles softly as he joins Cosmo, his WSO, in the Ready Room.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing." Logan shakes his head, unable to completely erase the smirk on his face as he grabs his helmet, pulling it on. "Inside joke. Come on, let's do this thing."

They head up to the flight deck, where Bilbo is already waiting with his WSO. Logan and Bilbo will be flying the second wave, completing some manoeuvres over the sea, and then attempting to land the aircraft on the first approach. _Yeah, chance'll be a fine thing._ He's already missed the landing wires four times this week, taking three attempts to land on Tuesday afternoon and another three yesterday morning. He really needs to nail it first time today or his CO's going to be on his ass.

After receiving the all-clear from the ground crew, they head over to the jets, check they're good to go and climb aboard. Logan might have four years of flying experience behind him, but the initial adrenaline rush of taking off has never quite gone away, especially not when he launches from the carrier. No matter how long you've been doing it, it never gets any easier, or safer.

The flight deck controller directs him to position the jet in the shuttle, attaching the towbar and holdback, and the flight crew raise the jet blast deflector behind the plane. They give him the signal and he feels his heart-rate accelerating, his hands becoming sweaty inside his gloves, as he blasts the engines, going full power and cycling the rudders to build up the thrust. The flight deck controller hands him over to the Shooter, who will release the catapult. Logan salutes him, letting him know he's ready and in a sudden jerk, the catapult is released, the pressure of the steam hurtling the jet forward as it gains speed at an incredible pace.

 _Zero to 165 mph in two seconds. Take that, Ferrari_.

He focuses all his attention on getting the plane in the air and not nose-diving into the ocean. He exhales in relief when the aircraft ascends quickly, the carrier falling away beneath it. Pulling up the gear, he dips the right wing and then turns so he's parallel to the ship's course, before ascending to 500 feet and increasing his speed.

Logan can't keep the grin off his face as the jet climbs into the sky, surrounded by brilliant blue, only a few wisps of white, fluffy clouds on the horizon. There is seriously _nothing_ in the world like this feeling. The adrenaline, the excitement, the pressure of several g's pushing him into the seat when he rolls the plane out. One might even say it's better than sex…and until a few weeks ago, Logan might have been inclined to agree. _Not anymore though._

"Woo, yeah!" Cosmo's voice comes through his headphones. "Nothin' like it, eh, Mouth?"

"Got that right."

They reach ten miles out from the ship and reconvene with Bilbo's jet in the air. They take the aircraft through their paces, testing the controls, making sure everything is working as it should, before getting in a few manoeuvres, practicing weaving in and out of each other, and keeping in formation side-by-side. They spend almost an hour in the air before preparing to land, something that fills Logan with both fear and dread every single time he has to do it.

After all, landing a jet on an aircraft carrier is one of the most dangerous things you can do. Seven hundred feet of runway is _nothing_. A car driving at 70 mph on the freeway has a stopping distance of almost 350 feet. Logan will be approaching the carrier at 150 mph and coming to a stop in just 320 feet. The flight deck has three steel wires stretched across it, spaced at intervals of 50 feet, and he has to catch one of the wires with the tailhook at the back of his jet in order to land. Once caught, the wire acts as a brake, and will bring the aircraft to a sudden stop.

The aim is to catch the third wire, since catching either the first or second means he was dangerously close to the back of the ship. If he approaches too fast or high and misses all the wires, then he'll have to touch and go: take off again and going around for another try… which is what happened the last couple days. If he comes in too low, he might not clear the flight deck and will smash into the back of the carrier—and then it really will be game over. It's a very real risk too, one he runs every single time he lands.

Ahead of him, Bilbo, as usual, makes the landing first time, catching the third wire with ease, his jet grinding to a quick halt on the flight deck. _Fuckin' showoff_ , Logan thinks with a wry smile as he prepares for his own landing, turning into the ¾ mile.

"One-One-Zero on course," comes the voice of the Landing Signal Officer on the ground. "On glide path, 3/4 of a mile. Call the ball."

"One-One-Zero, Hornet ball 8.0," Logan says into his headset.

The LSO responds, "Roger ball, 28 knots down the angle."

Okay, he's on course, he's on ball, everything's good so far. He continues the approach, determined to finally catch the third wire first time this week. That is until the LSO comes over the radio again.

"Don't settle," the voice crackles over the radio. "Power. Power. Wave off, wave off."

"Shit," he mutters, giving the engine a little throttle, the jet lifting. "Fuck it."

He was coming in too low again, damnit, which means his hopes of a perfect landing are yet again out the window. _And round for another go, it is._

To his immense relief, he catches the wire on attempt number two—an improvement over the last two days, at least—the jet coming to a sudden, jerking stop on the strip. Logan's heart is pounding in his chest, his breathing harsh, adrenaline coursing through him. No matter how many times he does this, the nerves and fear never quite go away.

By the time Logan has gone through almost an hour and a half of debrief, followed by a lecture from his CO about the importance of catching the wire in as few attempts as possible, he only has a few minutes to grab some food to go from the 'dirty-shirt' mess near the ready room and head up to the computer room. Even though he's a couple of minutes late for his Skype date with Veronica, the machine he's booked is still free—it's usually so busy that if you're late by more than a minute, someone else will take the slot—and he slides into the chair and quickly logs on.

As the familiar _whoosh_ of Skype starting up sounds through the small speakers, Logan feels nervous. He's going to see Veronica again in a minute; or at least he hopes he is. The onboard connection is so hit and miss that half the time it's either too slow to turn on the camera, or the call drops out completely mid-sentence. He smiles, seeing her name on the screen, her icon showing she's online, and presses the 'call' button.

It rings a few times, the dial tone breaking up a little with each ring, and he prays it's going to connect. A couple of seconds later, there's a click and the screen goes black for a moment, before she appears, her features only slightly pixelated.

"Hey," he says into the camera.

There must be a slight delay because she doesn't respond immediately and instead frowns a little at the screen. Then her expression clears and she smiles. Logan drinks in the sight of her. Even though her face is devoid of make-up, hair pulled up in a messy ponytail, she looks amazing, particularly because she's wearing one of his Navy t-shirts.

"Hey, you."

"Sorry I'm late," he says. "Debrief overran and I barely had time to get dinner."

He holds up the sandwich he grabbed from the mess hall, waiting a couple of seconds for her to see it. The delay isn't too bad, but it's slightly annoying nonetheless. At least he can see her though.

"It's okay, you're here now." She smiles at him, or at least she smiles at her screen, her eyes not quite meeting his.

"I hope the connection holds up," he says. "It can be crappy, so don't worry if it cuts out."

"Okay."

Logan opens his mouth, then realises he doesn't know what to say. It's awkward, this Skype thing.

"So, how's your dad?" he says eventually.

She just looks straight into the camera, fixing him with an amused look. "Seriously? That's how we're playing this? Small talk?"

He shrugs. "Okay, what do you want to talk about?"

"Uh…" She bites her lip and Logan's eyes follow the movement. "I dunno."

"See?" he grins. "Not so easy, huh?"

"It's weird, talking like this," she admits.

"Yeah, it is," he agrees. "You get used to it."

"Yeah." She nods.

He glances at the clock. "I hate to say it, but I don't have a whole lot of time. There's already someone here waiting for the next slot."

"Oh, okay. Sorry." She looks apologetic for a moment, but then smiles brightly, clapping her hands together. "So, let's get this show on the road. How's deployment so far?"

"All's well on the birdfarm," he quips. At her quizzical look, he adds, "Yeah, it's okay. I've been flying training sorties this week."

"Are they going well?" she asks.

He huffs out a frustrated breath. "Depends on your definition of well. Take-off and manoeuvres are good, I just can't seem to land the fucking thing this week."

"Oh?"

"Yeah." He looks heavenward. "It's never easy, but I've missed the wire four times in three days."

"I take it that's bad?"

Veronica looks nonplussed, but he doesn't have enough time to explain it all right now.

"Well, my CO seems to think so." He sighs.

Well, actually, his superior's exact words were: _"If you can't even land the fucking thing on an easy day, Lieutenant, how the fuck do you think you're gonna do it on a pitching deck in high seas?"_

"Just one of those weeks, I guess." He shrugs, then changes tack. "So, how've you been?

"Busy," she says. "I've been at the office most of the week, sorting through Dad's cases, seeing what I can get started on."

"Any luck with the PI licence?"

"No." She makes a face. "So, the thing is, because my licence expired years ago, I have to start over. Which means two years of working for my dad full-time before I can even apply to take the exam again."

"Shit, that sucks." Logan tries not to wince.

"Yeah, tell me about it." She sighs. "At least I have a law degree, otherwise it would be three years."

"Well, it's good for something, then."

"Yeah."

She looks down, but not before Logan sees the dejected expression on her face.

He watches her through the screen for a moment, before he says carefully, "Are you okay, Veronica?"

She lifts her head, gives a brittle smile. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"Because, you know, it's okay if you're not."

"I'm okay, Logan. Really." She avoids his gaze, trying to look unaffected, but he knows her better than that.

"I miss you," he tells her sincerely. "They might be keeping me busy as hell here, but that doesn't mean I don't."

Her lips curl up into a smile and she looks at him fully as she admits, "I miss you, too. I'm just trying not to think about how much."

"I know." He nods. "Me too."

Logan checks the clock again; he only has a couple of minutes left, and he can see the guy waiting for the next slot checking his watch impatiently.

"I'm gonna have to go in a minute," he tells Veronica apologetically. "There's a Petty Officer across the room staring daggers at me for taking too long."

"Okay." She smiles, though it doesn't reach her eyes.

"Looks like the Skype bookings are pretty full for the next few days already," he says, scanning the calendar on the wall. "Are you free next Friday night?"

Veronica hesitates, then grimaces. "Uh…"

Logan frowns. "What is it?"

"Nothing," she says quickly. Too quickly. "It's just… I'm gonna be out of town next weekend."

"That's okay, we'll find another time." She seems skittish, avoiding his gaze again, so Logan presses. "So, where are you going?"

"What?"

"Next weekend?"

"Oh, um, nowhere important." She's still not looking at him, which means she's hiding something.

"Veronica…" he says warningly.

"Okay, fine." She sighs. "I'm flying to New York. I need to move out of the apartment."

Oh. That explains it.

His voice is flat when he says, "The one you share with Piz."

"Well, shared…"

He doesn't want to know, but he has to ask, "Will you see him?"

She looks uncomfortable. "Probably. He does lives there, after all."

"Right. Of course."

It's irrational, he knows, the jealousy that courses through him. She's chosen him, chosen to stay in Neptune, to leave that other life behind. But a tiny part of him is worried. He's worried that she'll go back and realise that she's made a mistake, that she'll want to make things work with Piz after all, that she's going to decide to stay in New York.

"Logan, I'm sorry," she says, apparently reading his mind…or perhaps his expression is giving him away. "I'd prefer not to go, but I need to. For one, I need to close that chapter of my life, but also, I'm running out of clothes to wear. I'm going to have to raid my teenage wardrobe at this rate, and half of it doesn't even fit anymore."

"Yeah. Yeah, I know you do," he says quickly. "Just…"

She smiles sadly. "I'm not gonna go running back to him, you know."

 _Shit, she knows me too well._ He nods quickly. "I know."

"Do you?"

"I—" He starts to respond, but the petty officer is walking towards him now, tapping his watch with one finger.

"I'm sorry, I really have to go. My time's up." he says instead. "I'll email you about another Skype date, okay?"

"Sure. Okay." She looks like she wants to say more, but then seems to think better of it. "Bye, Logan. Stay safe."

"You too." He smiles sadly. "Bye, Veronica."

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** Apologies for the formatting of the email addresses in this - the site blanks out email addresses and URLs if you use the 'at' symbol or don't put spaces, and I didn't know how else to get it to show up.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

The next week seems to crawl by at snail's pace. Despite his days being filled with briefings, flying sorties and paperwork, Logan's still distracted. He really shouldn't be; distractions can be dangerous in this line of work, but he can't help it. Logically, he knows he shouldn't have anything to worry about, but that doesn't stop the jealousy he feels every time he thinks about the fact that Veronica will be seeing Piz in New York this weekend.

It's probably irrational, but he can't help sending her emails whenever he can, just to remind her that he's still here, to make sure she doesn't forget him.

* * *

 _From: logan. echolls at navy. mil_

 _To: vmars at gmail. com_

 _Date: 3_ _rd_ _Feb 2016 14:03 PST (4_ _th_ _Feb 2016 09:03 ship time)_

 _Subject: Paperwork sucks_

 _Procrastination is the art of keeping up with yesterday - Don Marquis_

 _On desk duty this morning—what fun!_

 _L_

 _P.S. How about next Tuesday for Skype – 8 pm your time?_

* * *

 _From: vmars at gmail. com_

 _To: logan. echolls at navy. mil_

 _Date: 3_ _rd_ _Feb 2016 14:06 PST (4_ _th_ _Feb 2016 09:06 ship time)_

 _Subject: RE: Paperwork sucks_

 _Back to the inspirational quotes, I see._

 _I know what you mean… seems my father doesn't have much of a filing system here. It's taking hours to go through it all._

 _V_

 _P.S. 8 pm next Tuesday sounds great._

* * *

 _From: logan. echolls at navy. mil_

 _To: vmars at gmail. com_

 _Date: 3_ _rd_ _Feb 2016 14:09 PST (4_ _th_ _Feb 2016 09:09 ship time)_

 _Subject: Quotes away_

 _I'll have you know my inspirational quotes have been very influential in the past. Or so I've been told._

 _So here, have one more:_

 _Definiteness of purpose is the starting point of all achievement. –W. Clement Stone_

 _L_

 _P.S. It's a date. Tuesday night… well, Wednesday morning for me._

* * *

 _From: logan. echolls at navy. mil_

 _To: vmars at gmail. com_

 _Date: 3_ _rd_ _Feb 2016 14:15 PST (4_ _th_ _Feb 2016 09:15 ship time)_

 _Subject: RE: Quotes away_

 _A day without sunshine is like, you know, night –Steve Martin_

 _Exactly how I feel stuck at a desk on this tin can right now._

 _L_

* * *

 _From: logan. echolls at navy. mil_

 _To:vmars at gmail. com_

 _Date: 3_ _rd_ _Feb 2016 14:18 PST (4_ _th_ _Feb 2016 09:18 ship time)_

 _Subject: RE: Quotes away_

 _Throw off the bowlines, sail away from safe harbor, catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore, Dream, Discover. –Mark Twain_

 _L_

* * *

 _From: logan. echolls at navy. mil_

 _To: vmars at gmail. com_

 _Date: 3_ _rd_ _Feb 2016 14:23 PST (4_ _th_ _Feb 2016 09:23 ship time)_

 _Subject: RE: Quotes away_

 _When everything seems to be going against you, remember that the airplane takes off against the wind, not with it. – Henry Ford_

 _L_

* * *

 _From: vmars at gmail. com_

 _To: logan. echolls at navy. mil_

 _Date: 3_ _rd_ _Feb 2016 14:27 PST (4_ _th_ _Feb 2016 09:27 ship time)_

 _Subject: RE: Quotes away_

 _Are you just sitting there Googling navy flying quotes?_

 _Do some work, Logan._

 _V_

* * *

Logan grins at the computer screen in the Ready Room. It's only 9:30 on Thursday morning and he's not flying, which means he has a whole day of paper-pushing ahead of him… and he can't think of anything more boring.

 _From: logan. echolls at navy. mil_

 _To: vmars at gmail. com_

 _Date: 3_ _rd_ _Feb 2016 14:30 PST (4_ _th_ _Feb 2016 09:30 ship time)_

 _Subject: RE: Quotes away_

 _My sincerest apologies, ma'am. I'll get to work right away._

 _After all:_

 _The harder I work, the luckier I get. –Samuel Goldwyn_

 _L_

* * *

 _From: vmars at gmail. com_

 _To: logan. echolls at navy. mil_

 _Date: 3_ _rd_ _Feb 2016 14:33 PST (4_ _th_ _Feb 2016 09:33 ship time)_

 _Subject: RE: Quotes away_

 _Something you're not telling me, Lieutenant? Because you'd better not be getting lucky for another 164 days._

 _V_

* * *

Logan spends the whole weekend on edge, determinedly trying _not_ to think about Veronica being in New York with Piz. He's not particularly successful; a number of different scenarios keep running through his head, none of them good, and by the time Wednesday morning comes around he's the verge of meltdown.

In the end, though, it turns out he needn't have worried.

"It was awful, Logan," Veronica admits over Skype. "Like, really awkward."

Is it bad that he's immensely relieved to hear that?

"I'm sorry," he says.

"I _told_ him what time I would get there," she says in frustration. "I thought he'd make himself scarce, you know, so things wouldn't be awkward. But because I can't seem to catch a break, he was still home when I arrived and then wouldn't leave."

A streak of irrational anger flashes through him and he sits forward in his chair. "Did he do anything to you? 'Cause if he did, I'll—"

"Hold your horses, Echolls." Veronica cuts him off sharply, holding up a hand. "He didn't do anything."

Logan lets out the breath he was holding, forcing himself to calm down. "Good."

"It was just…" She sighs. "God, he just stood there, the whole time, with this look on his face like I was something he just stepped in."

"Geez…"

"And of course, he couldn't help getting in some pointed jibes about you." She scowls, holding up her finger and thumb. "I was _this_ close to punching him in the mouth."

He smiles, hoping it will ease the tension. "I would have paid good money to see that."

She narrows her eyes, though her lips twitch up in amusement. "I bet you would."

"You got all your stuff, though?"

"Yeah, thank God," she says. "I'm shipping it all back here, so it'll be a few days—couldn't afford the excess baggage fees."

The way she says it, along with the slight wince she tries to hide, makes Logan realise something. He just doesn't know how to broach the subject without offending her.

"Veronica?"

"Yeah?"

He tries to pick his words carefully. "With your dad out of commission, are you guys okay, you know, money-wise?"

He holds his breath, waits for the explosion, but nothing comes. Instead, her silence, coupled with the way she's biting her lip, says it all.

"Not really, no," she says eventually. "There isn't really any money coming in right now, and there's the hospital bills, and the New York trip, not to mention my student loans. And, God, Mac left Kane Software to work for us and she really could use a salary of some kind…." She shrugs, looking determined. "But we'll manage."

"Let me help you." It just slips out, and once it's out there, hanging in the air between them—well, between him and the computer screen—there's no taking it back.

As predicted, she shakes her head vehemently. "No, Logan. This is my problem. I'm not taking your money."

"You can't survive without an income, Veronica." He rubs the back of his neck. "Let me help. Please? I mean, it's just sitting in my account, not being spent. Let me put it to good use."

"I can't, Logan," she says, even though there's regret in her eyes. "It would feel too much like charity."

It's not unexpected, but it stings all the same. "It wouldn't be charity, Veronica, I promise. But if you're that worried, it'll be a loan and you can pay me back later."

She bites her lip again, seemingly considering it. "A loan? Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure."

"Okay." She nods slowly, then holds up a finger to the screen. "But I will pay you back; every penny, I promise."

"Okay."

Of course, he has no intention of letting her pay it back, but she doesn't need to know that. Aaron's money has been sitting in his account for years, mostly untouched other than a few essential expenses—like his house and the car. He can't quite bring himself to spend it unless he has to, so it might as well be used for something good.

"I'll email my accountant. He'll contact you about a transfer."

"All right. Fine." She still looks reluctant. "But don't get any ideas about grand gestures in your head, okay? Just enough to keep us afloat until I can get a few paying clients, and that's all."

"That's fine."

"Okay."

She seems to relax then, the slope of her shoulders indicating relief, and he wonders how much of her protest against his offer was, in fact, just a front.

He glances at the clock. His Skype timeslot is nearly up.

"Sorry," he says apologetically. "I only have a couple minutes left."

She nods. "That's okay. Will you be able to talk again soon?"

"Not sure." He checks the schedule. "There's a free slot at 11 pm your time on Saturday. We could try for that."

"Okay. I can do that."

"But we'll be reaching our operating area in the next few days, so the comms might go dark for a while," he adds. "I'll try to let you know if that's going to happen."

"Sure, no problem."

"But if I can't, don't worry if you don't hear from me for a while, okay? It's just standard procedure."

"Okay."

She smiles at the camera then, looking straight into it, and her eyes meet his on the screen.

"I miss you," she says softly, and he grins widely at the admission.

She lowers her gaze to the screen, and he reciprocates her gesture, looking directly into his camera now. "I miss you, too."

"Be careful, okay?"

"I will." He nods. "You too."

* * *

It's been nine days since Logan last talked to Veronica and five days since their last email exchange. As he suspected, the comms on the ship went dark Friday morning, so other than a quick email to let her know what was going on, they haven't been able to communicate since. Now it's Thursday evening and although comms came back this morning, so many people have been trying to get online that the earliest internet slot he can get is Saturday morning.

So instead, he's relaxing on his bunk in the stateroom, hands behind his head as he listens to Veronica's voice in his ear. The track entitled _For When You Need to De-stress…_ is playing, and it's just what he needs after the long day he's had. If he closes his eyes, he can imagine she's here with him on the ship instead of eight thousand miles away in Southern California.

It's not unusual for tensions to rise on the carrier as they approach their designated area of operation. They might have been on the ship for almost a month already, but they only reached the Persian Gulf a couple of days ago and are scheduled to start flying operational missions tomorrow. Today has been all about preparation: briefing tomorrow's mission, planning their strategies, taking part in last minute training on war zone operations, and being briefed on what to do if you end up landing or ejecting over enemy territory.

Logan's been feeling the anxiety building steadily through the day, his muscles tight and coiled, adrenaline thrumming through his veins. He tried to release some of the nervous energy on a punching bag in the gym earlier. Didn't help much. Right now though, listening to Veronica's soft calming voice through his headphones is making all the difference and he loses himself in a world where they're together, having a lazy day on the beach, and she's spreading sunscreen across his back, massaging it into his shoulders, her fingers leaving tingles along his skin.

"Yo, Mouth!" Chaos' voice filters through Veronica's soothing words.

"Oof." Logan startles as a package lands on his stomach. "What the hell, man?"

He shoots Chaos a glare as he sits up, pulling the headphones out of his ears. His squadron-mate is grinning at him unapologetically.

"You have mail."

"Yeah, I see that." he says dryly. "Thanks."

He reaches for the package in his lap, turning it over to see his name written in Veronica's familiar handwriting. The sight of it makes him smile. It's postmarked 27th January, which means she mailed it just a few days after he left.

"So, who's sending you mail?" asks Chaos, still standing in the middle of the small room. "It's Veronica, right?"

"Yeah." Logan nods, gaze returning to the parcel in his hands. "It is."

Chaos doesn't say anything for a moment, but he also doesn't leave. Logan looks up to find his friend still grinning at him.

"Dude, what?"

His friend just shakes his head. "Nothin'. It's just… she's totally got you under her spell, man."

Logan scowls. "Fuck off."

"No, I mean, it's good," says Chaos. "'S about time you had someone, you know, lookin' out for you."

"Yeah." Logan nods. "She's…"

"Fuckin' hot?" Chaos nods towards the small photo of Veronica pinned up next to his bed.

"Dude, stop drooling over my girl." Logan scrunches his nose. "Aren't you happily married?"

"Of course." Chaos nods. "Doesn't mean I can't appreciate a beautiful woman." His friend grins. "So, she's 'your girl' now, huh?"

Logan opens his mouth to give a sarcastic retort, but Chaos is watching him with a small smile, the teasing expression gone, so he just nods.

"Yeah, I think she is."

"Good for you." Chaos nods, then gestures to the mail package. "So, you gonna open it, or what?"

"Well, I would have already, if someone wasn't still standing here," he says pointedly.

His friend throws his hands up in surrender. "Okay, fine, I'm going."

Logan waits until Chaos has departed the small room before he turns his attention to the parcel. With a grin, he tears into it, finding a small collection of numbered brown-paper-wrapped gifts and an envelope resting on top, his name and the words 'Open First' scrawled across the front. He reaches for the envelope, sliding his finger under the opening and pulling out a folded piece of paper: a handwritten letter.

 _Logan,_

 _As a rule, I don't trust the USPS to deliver anything within the US, let alone to an aircraft carrier, so fingers crossed you actually get this._

 _I hope you're doing okay. You've only been gone a few days, but I guess by the time you read this, it'll have been a few weeks._

 _Okay, so this is the rule: you have to open the gifts in order, starting with number 1. So, go ahead…_

Logan smiles, putting down the letter and reaching for the first gift. It's small and rectangular. He tears off the paper to reveal a pack of playing cards. Turning them over in his hand, he reaches for the letter again.

 _…I figured you could use this time to brush up on your poker skills for when you come home. You remember how I used to always beat you, right? (I'm sure you're protesting right now, but you can't deny it; we both know the truth)._

 _Okay, time to stop thinking about how much better I am at poker than you and move on to number 2…_

Logan chuckles and reaches for the next gift. This one is also rectangular, but it's longer and flexible. He opens it to find three packets of Red Vines. He grins. _She still remembers?_

They've been his favourite candy for years… ever since he came home one afternoon in freshman year to find Veronica and Lilly sunbathing by his pool, clad in bikinis that left little to his 14-year-old imagination, and sucking on Red Vines. After that afternoon, he couldn't eat them without thinking of the two of them in those bikinis. It was something he admitted to Veronica that summer after graduation when she produced a packet and offered him one when they were hanging out at the beach one weekend. After he told the story, she stripped down to her swimsuit, grabbed some of the candy and struck a seductive pose for him.

 _…. I bet I know what you're thinking right now: where's the bikini-clad Veronica? But don't fear, just open gift number 3…._

With anticipation, Logan lifts the gift in question—this one thin and flat—and unwraps it. His lips curl up in an indulgent smile when he realises she's sent printed photos, the picture on top being one he remembers taking of her at the beach a few weeks ago. She's kneeling up in the sand in that gorgeous green bikini, sunglasses covering her eyes and the wind sweeping her hair across her shoulder as she poses with one hand on her hip like she's a pin-up in Sports Illustrated. He grins. She might look amazing in the photo, but he remembers how she could barely keep a straight face through the whole thing. Right after he took it, she burst out laughing and shoved at his shoulder, tackling him to the ground.

Logan moves it to the bottom of the pile and flicks through the rest. There are a few of the two of them together, both recent and from when they were teenagers, a couple of old pictures of her and Backup, and one of the four of them—Veronica, Lilly, Duncan and him—together at Homecoming that year. He finishes going through them, already picturing how he will arrange them on the bulkhead next to his bunk, and returns to the letter.

 _…Hope you like them. I wasn't sure what to include, so I put together a collection of different ones. I know you already have some photos on your iPod, but I heard you military types like to pin them up by your beds, so I figured I owed you some real ones._

 _Right, next gift… number 4. Go ahead, open it…_

Logan frowns as he reaches for the next one. It's small and light and… kinda soft. He can't think what on Earth it might be. His eyes widen in surprise as he opens it to reveal… a striped, woman's t-shirt. _What the fuck?_ He picks up the letter again.

 _…Don't worry, I haven't mistaken you for Mac. This is one of mine… which I expect to get back in about 5 months, by the way. I thought since I've kind of commandeered a few of your shirts, you might like something to remind you of me too. I know, I know, I'm getting all mushy now. Trust me, it's between us only. Can't have people around town thinking I'm going soft._

Logan lifts the shirt from the wrapping and brings it to his nose, inhaling the familiar scent of her perfume, mixed with her own unique scent. He feels a lump starting to develop in his throat and quickly swallows it down, all too aware that someone could walk in at any minute and see him getting all sentimental.

As per the next instruction, he opens the final gift. This one is much smaller, only a couple of inches long by about an inch wide. Logan's brow furrows as he unpeels the paper and tips the contents into his palm. It's a small USB flash drive. Blinking at it, bemused, he continues reading.

 _Okay, so you're probably looking at it in confusion, right? Maybe turning it over in your hand, trying to figure out what it's supposed to be for? All I'm going to say about this one is that you should plug it in and see what's on it._

 _So, that's it. I wasn't sure what kind of things I should send, so I hope you like everything. If there's anything else you want, just let me know and I'll see what I can do._

 _Thinking of you,_

 _Veronica_

With a smile, Logan neatly folds the letter and puts it to one side, before sliding off the bunk and extracting his laptop from his locker, suddenly glad he decided to bring it with him. He fires it up and slots the flash drive into a USB slot, eagerly anticipating what might be on it. He clicks into the drive and finds two folders inside: Music and Videos.

With a grin, he clicks on Music and then immediately snorts a laugh at the list of albums inside: N'Sync, No Strings Attached, Celebrity and The Essential N'Sync. _Thanks a lot, Veronica._ But it's the final album title in the list that really catches his attention: _For When You (Take 2)…_

He opens the folder, eyes scanning over the track list—some of the titles are the same as the ones on his iPod, just new recordings, and others have different descriptions. Logan feels a surge of emotion threatening to bubble up from his chest and presses his lips together in an attempt to stop it. If he thought Veronica was amazing before… God, he doesn't even know how to describe how he's feeling about her right this second.

 _Hang on,_ he thinks then, _if she's sending me more recordings, does that mean I don't have to make the other ones last?_

It's been taking all of his willpower not to devour every single mp3 track and video file right away, but instead to save them so he has new things to watch and listen to later in the tour, when he's bored and fed up.

Perusing the video folder next, he smiles when he sees the list of movies she's uploaded to the drive. Several of his favourites, and even some of hers, are on there, and he grins when he sees Easy Rider and The Big Lebowski in the list. He's a little disappointed to note that there are no homemade videos this time, but he figures she probably didn't have much time to put any together before mailing the package. Besides, what she's sent is more than enough.

* * *

Early Saturday morning finds Logan finally in the computer lab after over a week of no internet access other than for deployment-related data transmissions. He's been planning to send Veronica a thank you email, but when he sits down at the PC, he figures he might as well see if she's around to talk to instead. He glances at the clock. It's 07:30 hours local time, which makes it 20:30 Friday night in Neptune. He clicks on the Skype icon, his knee bouncing impatiently while he waits. A few seconds later, a wide smile lights up his face, her profile showing she's online, and with an anxious exhale, he presses the call button.

 _Come on, Veronica. Please be there._

It rings several times and Logan's on the verge of hanging up when the call finally connects. He frowns at the screen, when all he sees is her mid-section and part of her arm.

"Hey, Mac, what've you got?" She sounds distracted, her voice coming from somewhere above the screen.

"Uh, it's not Mac," he says, trying not to grin.

Her body freezes for a second before she quickly sits down in front of the screen, looking shocked.

"Logan? What are you—I thought you didn't have comms?"

"They came back Thursday, but I couldn't get online until this morning," he explains. "Thought I'd see if you were around."

She smiles, her whole face lighting up, and the delight on her face makes him smile too.

 _God, she's beautiful._

"Then it's a good thing I postponed dinner with Wallace, otherwise you wouldn't have caught me." She makes a face. "Gotta work late."

"You're at the office?" he asks, then realises that it's obvious she is, considering the smart clothes and the large windows behind her.

"Yeah, new case came up a couple of days ago," she says. "I have Mac looking into a couple of things for me right now."

"Anything interesting?"

She shrugs. "Just your typical cheating husband scandal. Not exactly newsworthy, but it's a paying client." She pauses, looking uncomfortable, as if it's going to be a struggle to put what she wants to say into words. "Uh, thank you, you know, for the extra funds. They've been very helpful, especially since I don't think Mac will agree to work for free for much longer."

"Happy to help," he says.

She gives a small smile. He understands her hesitance to accept the money. After all this time, she obviously still hates having to rely on anyone else for anything.

She lowers her head for a moment, then looks up, directly at the screen. "Anyway, enough about me; how are you? You look good."

"Yeah, things are okay here." He nods. "Not much to say, really. We're, uh, operational now. I flew the first official mission yesterday."

She nods, taking that in. "Well, I would ask how it went, but I'm guessing you can't talk about it."

"That's a no. Sorry."

"No, it's okay. I get it," she says. "But things are good?"

"Yeah, except for missing you," he admits.

Her expression softens, a small smile gracing her features. It reminds him of how she looked at him the morning he left. "I miss you, too."

He smiles then. "I got your package on Thursday."

"Which one?"

"Uh, the first one, I guess," he replies, then frowns. "Wait, there's more than one?"

"There might be," she replies reticently.

"Sweet." He grins.

"I take it you liked the first one, then?" She looks a little apprehensive. "I wasn't really sure what to send, so—"

"It was perfect." He cuts her off quickly, then says sincerely. "Thank you."

"Really?"

"Definitely." He nods, then gives a smirk. "Though, I'm not sure that shirt will fit me."

"Oh, ha, ha." She narrows her eyes at him playfully.

"I'm also pretty sure I used to beat you at poker more often than not."

She presses her lips together, her eyes dancing. "You sure about that? Need I remind you of a certain game in your pool house, Christmas of junior year?"

He scoffs. "A fluke, of course."

"Yeah, you keep telling yourself that." She laughs, and the sound causes a wave of longing to flow over him.

"Has it been 180 days yet?" The words just slip out of his mouth. "It must be getting close, right?"

He's only half-joking.

She shakes her head, sobering slightly. "Still 147 to go. Sorry."

"Well, shit." He slumps back in his chair.

"Tell me about it."

"How's your dad doing?"

She nods. "He's getting better. He's up and around more now, walking with a cane. It's slow-going, but the physical therapy is helping."

"That's good."

"Yeah." She grimaces. "He's starting to drive me crazy at home. He's itching to get back to work and keeps pestering me to let him come with me to the office."

A sudden image of Keith begging Veronica to drive him to work flits through Logan's mind and he chuckles lightly.

Veronica sighs. "When he's better, I've decided I need to find my own place. I'm 28; I can't live with my dad forever."

"You know, you're welcome to crash at mine whenever you want."

She nods, giving a slight smile. "I know, and thank you, but your condo is all the way down in San Diego. Not exactly convenient for work."

"Yeah, good point." He nods. "The offer still stands though."

"Thanks." She nods, her expression becoming thoughtful. "So, I have some more news…"

"Yeah?" Logan's immediately on the alert. Veronica doesn't look worried, but you never know with her.

"I've decided to take the California bar exam."

"Really?" He smiles. _Good for her._

"Yeah, well after looking into getting my PI licence again and seeing that a law degree is one of the ways in, I figured, maybe it is worth it after all," she admits. "And I thought about what you said before you left. You're right, it could be useful."

"That's great," Logan replies, biting back the urge to say ' _Told you so'_. "When will you take it?"

When she told him a few weeks ago she wasn't planning on taking the bar now that she was back in Neptune, he thought she was crazy. Not that he told her that, of course, but really, what's the point in spending three years in law school, graduating near the top of your class and then not taking the one set of exams that will actually allow you to practice law?

"Well, I've already missed the February exam dates, but I should be able to take it in the July session… I can file the application from March 1st."

"When's the exam?"

"Uh…" She glances at something off-screen. "July 26th, 27th and 28th."

He smiles, "I should be home by then."

Well, he hopes he will be. The tour end date they've been given is July 19th, but that means nothing when it comes to navy deployments. Chances are it'll be a few days, maybe even a few weeks, later. He doesn't want to tell Veronica that just yet though. He'd quite like to remain in denial and pretend that it will be 180 days and no more.

"Wow… God, yeah, you will," she says slowly, a hint of wonder in her tone. "That didn't even…"

"Forgetting about me already, huh?"

"I could never," she replies immediately.

They share a meaningful look, and Logan would be content to just sit here and watch her all day, but the time is a-ticking and he has places to be.

"Look, I'm gonna have to go in a minute—I'm not even supposed to be on Skype right now, since I didn't book a slot."

"Okay." She nods in understanding. "It's getting late here too, and I still need to get hold of Mac before I leave. You up to anything interesting today?"

"It's a no-fly day, so Chaos is organising a basketball tournament in the hangar this afternoon," he says.

Veronica frowns. "Do you even play basketball?"

"I do now," he says with a grin. Back in high school, he barely even touched a basketball, let alone ever actually played the sport. "Well, I can hold my own, at least."

"Well, good luck."

"Thanks. And you too, with your case."

They say goodbye and Veronica rings off, leaving Logan staring at the now empty screen in contemplation. 'Only' 147 days to go ( _maybe longer_ , an unwanted voice sounds in his head)… the next five months better pass really quickly.

* * *

Things settle down over the next few weeks, as Logan gets back into the rhythm of flying regular missions from the carrier, mixed in with the usual training sorties. They're mainly operating over Iraq, coordinating with the RAF Typhoon and Tornado jets already stationed out there. The missions are typically five or six hours long, and every time Logan has to suit up for one of them, he thinks of Veronica and her bathroom break questions. They've been pretty uneventful so far—no need for weapons yet, but it'll only be matter of time before they start launching air strikes.

Of course, it's just typical that he wakes one Thursday morning in early March with a stuffy nose and scratchy throat. He convinces himself it's just a 24-hour thing, and coughs and sneezes his way through the day, but a quick visit to the medical center the next morning confirms his suspicions: it's a full-on sinus infection. He's put on DNIF—Duties Not to Include Flying—which means he's grounded until the doctor clears him to fly again.

You wouldn't have thought that something as trivial as a blocked nose and a bit of sneezing would be enough to prevent a pilot from flying, but the g-forces and pressure changes in the cockpit can be dangerous if you're not at full health, especially when it comes to the sinuses.

So now he has at least a week, maybe two, of desk duties only, and Logan can't think of anything more boring. He can't even spend the extra time in the gym, because whenever he tries to do anything more energetic than walking, his head starts pounding and he can't breathe properly.

Instead, when he's not on duty, he spends an inordinate amount of time listening to Veronica's voice in his ear, watching her videos—he's received two more packages from her since that first one, both containing some of his favourite non-perishables, along with music, more movies and in the latest package, a few short videos showing her daily life around Neptune: walks on the beach, hanging out with Wallace and Mac, things like that—and poring over the worn copy of an old Victoria's Secret catalogue, which Bilbo found stashed at the bottom of his locker a few weeks ago. With no missions to keep him occupied and to keep the adrenaline going, he finds himself feeling antsy and claustrophobic and even a little depressed.

So, he emails Veronica as often as he can, mostly just short, playful messages, but occasionally he'll write longer ones, mostly when he's feeling particularly melancholy and missing her. She's been emailing back, but the tone of her replies have remained light, mainly jokes and banter, even when in response to his more serious emails, and just once he wishes she would drop the act and actually talk about her feelings. Other than a few 'I miss you's, she hasn't exactly been forthcoming on that front. She was a lot more open with him before he left, so he's hoping it's because she doesn't feel comfortable talking openly over email or Skype.

"Dude, for fuck's sake, quit moping," Bilbo tells him on Sunday when he's slumped in his airline-style chair in the Ready Room, feeling sorry for himself. "It's only a sinus infection."

"Easy for you to say," he grumbles. "You're not fuckin' grounded with nothing to do."

"Only for a few more days, man." Bilbo sounds like he's trying to curb his sarcasm. "Get over it."

"Yeah." Logan shrugs.

Bilbo settles into the chair beside him. "Okay, dude, what gives? You've been grounded before and you've never been this surly."

"It's nothin'," he mumbles.

"Not buyin' it." Bilbo just raises a knowing eyebrow. "Lemme guess: begins with 'V', ends in 'eronica'?"

"No." Logan's protest is weak, and he knows it.

"Look, I get it, man," says Bilbo. "It's never easy bein' away from 'em."

Logan sighs, resignedly, looking over at his squadron-mate. Bilbo's been in the navy two years longer than him; married for five years with a young son at home, a little boy named Anthony who must be nearly two by now.

"How do you do it, man?" he asks. "It's only been seven weeks and I'm already itching to get home."

"You manage. Because you have to." Bilbo shrugs, his tone matter of fact. "No one wants to be away from the people they love, but you don't have a choice, so you make the most of the time you do get with her, even if it's only through a computer screen, and you fill your days with work so you don't dwell on it."

"It's all well and good saying that, but actually doing it?" Logan shakes his head. "Not so easy."

"Just give it time, man. You're sick right now, and you know, we're at the seven-week slump… give it a couple of weeks and I bet you'll feel differently."

"Yeah."

Logan's not convinced of that, though Bilbo does have a point. It seems to be a standard symptom of long deployments to experience a dip in mood and a general feeling of being fed up around seven weeks in… it's that time when the initial excitement of being away has worn off, and you realise you're going to be stuck here for another four-plus months, with crappy food and bad internet and no fresh milk because it all ran out weeks ago.

"That's it, dude, I can't take the moping anymore. You're coming to the rec room with me."

Logan shakes his head again. "For the hundredth time, dude, I am _not_ playing Dungeons and Dragons with you."

"Geez, it's not that bad." Bilbo raises his eyes heavenward. "You never know, you might actually enjoy it."

"Yeah, I don't think so." Logan snorts.

"What the fuck else are you gonna to with yourself, huh?" says Bilbo. "Come on… release the inner geek we know is hiding beneath all that snark."

Logan weighs up his options for a moment, before sighing.

"All right, fine. I'll play." He holds up a finger in warning. "But I am not getting dressed up, or putting on a stupid voice, or whatever else it is you do in that game."

Bilbo doesn't even justify that with a response, just shakes his head and gives a snort before turning and heading for the door.

"You coming, or what?"


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

 _From: vmars at gmail. com_

 _To: logan. echolls at navy. mil_

 _Date: 21st March 2016 12:45 PST (21st March 2016 23:45 ship time)_

 _Subject: Things are looking up_

 _Hey Logan,_

 _I had an unexpected visitor at MI this morning and as a result I think I've just caught my first high-profile case since I've been home._

 _You'll never guess who showed up in the office… get this: Petra Landros, owner of the Neptune Grand. You remember her, right? Of course you do, you used to drool over her in her underwear in high school. She's hiring me—well, the Neptune Chamber of Commerce is—to look into the disappearance of a girl named Hayley Dewalt who was down in Neptune for Spring Break and hasn't been seen since last Wednesday._

 _Of course, the case they've hired me for has nothing to do with the fact that a teenage girl is missing, possibly dead. No, they just want to maintain their reputation and prevent it from damaging the Neptune tourist trade, since Lamb is making a monumental fuck-up of it all as usual. Apparently, if I find Hayley, it will put the minds of potential tourists at ease and encourage them not to cancel their vacation plans. Not the ideal situation, but it's a case, and I have a feeling it'll pay very well. The downside though: I have to attend a meeting with Lamb this afternoon… yeah, I can see it going well too._

 _Wish me luck,_

 _Veronica_

* * *

Logan scans over Veronica's email quickly on Tuesday morning, grinning at the mention of a certain Ms. Landros… the very same ex-underwear model he was still drooling over even now, this time in the Victoria's Secret magazine, from the confines of his bunk. Despite the less than ideal circumstances surrounding this new case of hers, he's glad Veronica's getting some decent, paid work. While he's more than happy to help her out financially if she needs it, he's well aware that she isn't comfortable taking money from him.

He clicks out of the message and is about to move to the next one when a new email from her appears in his inbox. Rather than reading it, he quickly signs into Skype, hoping she's online. He grins when he sees the green icon next to her name, and presses the call button. She picks up after a couple of rings, and he frowns when the screen remains blank for a long moment, then smiles widely when she finally appears on the screen.

"Hey," he says softly.

"Hey," she replies with a smile. "This is a nice surprise."

"I saw that you were online," he says. "I figured I'd take my chance."

They aren't quite looking at each other, the camera angles not lining up exactly, but at least he can see her.

"What time is it there?" she asks, sounding a little awkward. It always seems to take a couple of minutes to adjust to talking to each other this way.

"Almost eight." As he replies, he sees Hughes enter the computer room, pointing at his watch and looking impatient, and he looks over at him pleadingly. "Ten minutes. Come on, please?"

"Someone's got a timer out, huh?" she asks.

"Yeah, it's okay." Logan turns back to the screen with a smile, gaze focusing on her, noting the amusement in her eyes. His thoughts return to her email and he smirks. "So, Petra Landros. In your office. I've had that fantasy a few times, but it usually didn't involve a missing person case."

"She's not nearly as sexy in real life." Veronica gives a slight scowl as she speaks and Logan tries not to grin at the twinge of jealousy he can hear in her tone.

She really doesn't need to worry; if it's a choice between a former underwear model now approaching middle-age and the beauty on the screen before him, Veronica will win every time.

"That beauty mark?" says Veronica, leaning closer to the screen, her voice dropping. "It's really just a mole."

Logan frowns, affecting a disappointed pout. "Don't tell me that. Right now, the 2004 Victoria's Secret Christmas catalogue is all I've got keeping me warm at night."

"Really?" She relaxes, looking amused. "That thing must have seen some mileage by now."

Her tone is playful, no longer any hint of jealousy or annoyance, and he's glad for that; glad they can joke about things like this now without it causing issues.

He straightens his expression and says soberly. "The seaman's life is one of privation."

That earns him a smirk and he grins in return.

"How's the sinus infection?" she asks then. He told her about it in an email a few days ago; actually it was more of a rant about how bored and fed up he was about not being able to fly. "You still grounded?"

 _Fucking wish I wasn't_ , he thinks, though aloud he says, "For another few days. The flight doc says he'll clear me by the end of the week."

"I hate that news," she admits. "You sneezing is you not on missions."

Logan resists the urge to sigh. He's already gotten a glimpse of how much she worries about his safety flying the jet, but it is what it is, and no good can come of arguing about it. After all, she has every right to be scared. It's a fucking dangerous job and he can't deny that.

So, he just says it simply. "This is the life I chose, Veronica."

Before he can gauge her response, he sees Hughes frantically gesturing, nodding toward the clock. It's almost eight and the poor guy needs to get online to talk to his wife.

He sighs. "Yeah, okay. Sorry, man."

He turns back to the screen. "I gotta go. Hughes' wife just had a baby—he's got to be online at oh-eight-hundred to talk to them."

She nods in understanding. "Okay. Tell him congratulations."

"I will." He studies her for a long moment, savouring the sight of her before him. "You free this Thursday? Three-thirty your time?"

She grins, says warmly, "I can be for you."

The words reverberate through him, warmth building in his chest, and he gives a pleased smile. "It's a date."

He takes one last look at her, then reluctantly ends the call. Standing up, he gestures to the PC, telling Hughes, "It's all yours."

"Thanks, Mouth." Hughes nods, quickly sliding into the seat and logging into Skype.

Logan watches him for a moment, before clapping him on the shoulder and saying, "Congrats, man."

As he leaves the computer lab and heads down to the Ready Room, an image suddenly flits through his mind: he's in Hughes' position, calling his family from the ship, a family he has with Veronica. It's such a foreign concept, he can't imagine it will ever actually happen. Though they haven't discussed the future much since she's been back in Neptune, in the past, Veronica's always made it crystal clear that she never wants to get married, or have children, and he can understand why after all she's seen and experienced. Hell, with his childhood, he's not sure he will ever want those things either.

He shakes off the thoughts— _this is so not the time_ —and focuses back on the here and now. He's still got another four months to get through before thinking about anything further ahead.

* * *

His suggested call time of three-thirty on Wednesday is strategic. It will be the early hours of the morning on the ship, a time when the computer lab is almost deserted, and since he's not flying and doesn't need to be up early in the mornings, it's the perfect opportunity to talk without being disturbed. However, on Tuesday morning, he makes the unfortunate mistake of talking back to his OC during a squadron briefing, his temper short and the frustration of still being grounded bubbling over, and winds up losing his internet privileges for three days.

It's not like him to lose his temper these days, the lesson he learned back in OCS—the one that led to the acquisition of his call sign—usually serves as a constant reminder, but he's been sick, and he's tired and fed up, and it just comes out before he can think better of it. The worst thing is that he can't even email Veronica to let her know he can't make their Skype date, and he's not stupid enough to defy his superior and try to sneak online anyway.

So, it's Friday afternoon before he gets a chance to check his emails. He finds one from Veronica, sent about thirty minutes after their missed Skype date.

* * *

 _From: vmars at gmail. com_

 _To: logan. echolls at navy. mil_

 _Date: 24th March 2016 16:00 PST (25th March 2016 03:00 ship time)_

 _Subject_ : _RE: Things are looking up_

 _Hey Logan,_

 _I guess you couldn't Skype today after all. No worries. Things have been pretty busy here too._

 _You'll never guess who showed up today._

 _Maybe you already saw the news—I don't know, do you get CNN on the ship? Trish Turley's been making a meal out of it. Another girl went missing, and because the cosmos hates me, she just so happens to be Lianne's stepdaughter._

 _I'll tell you all about it when we have a chance to Skype. Are you free Monday morning (my Sunday night)? Let me know and I'll be online._

 _Veronica_

* * *

Logan's eyes scan over the email again. While they do get some news on the ship, he hasn't heard anything about the missing girls through the outlets available here. He's surprised to read that Lianne Mars is back in town, and apparently re-married.

 _Oh, Veronica._ He sighs. _You can't catch a break, can you?_

He clicks on the 'reply' button, but before he can start typing a response, his Skype chimes with an incoming call. He minimises the browser window, frowning when he sees it's Dick calling. _You better not be drunk-dialling me, Casablancas_. He accepts the call, his friend's face appearing on the small screen.

"Dick?"

"Logan. I need to talk to you." Dick says, looking… well, only slightly drunk this time.

"At, uh, two in the morning?" he asks, mentally calculating the time in Neptune. "It couldn't wait until daylight hours?"

"Dude, your girlfriend kissed me tonight." He announces without preamble. "I'm talking, like, full-on make-out session."

"She did what?" Logan's eyes widen, unsure if he heard his friend correctly. "Wait, we are talking about Veronica Mars, right?"

"What, you got another secret girlfriend stashed somewhere?" retorts Dick.

"'Course not, but we both know Veronica wouldn't touch you with a ten-foot pole," he reasons. "So, what the hell are you talking about?"

Dick sighs. "I was at Eduardo Gutierrez's Spring Break party tonight, you know, on the Drive?"

Logan frowns. "Dude, you're 28. What the hell were you doing at a college party?"

Dick grins, stating, "One word: Girls in Bikinis."

"That's three words." He's not in the mood for joking. He wants to know what's going on with Veronica.

"Whatevs." Dick dismisses with a wave of his hand. "So, anyway, I'm walking by the pool and I bump into this smokin' hot blonde in a pink string bikini… lo and behold, it's your girl, V."

"Veronica? You're sure?" Logan understands the words coming out of Dick's mouth, but he just can't make sense of them. Since when does Veronica wear pink string bikinis to Spring Break parties? For that matter, since when does she attend Spring Break parties at all?

"'Course I'm sure, dude." Dick nods. "I've only known her for like, half my life. She was acting all weird, pretending she didn't know me."

 _Of course_. Things are slowly starting to make sense. _She's working her new case._

"She grabbed my arm and like, dragged me halfway across the party." Dick frowns, reaching across to rub his forearm. "Started interrogating me about Rico or Eduardo or some shit."

"What happened?"

Dick shrugged. "Dunno. Lost her after that. Group of us were looking to party in the library, I walked in and she just threw herself at me, all like, 'Dick, baby, where've you been?'" He shudders. "Couldn't keep her hands off me."

"Why?"

"Beats me." Dick shrugs again. "Didn't get a chance to ask. Cops showed up and broke it up."

"Is she okay?"

He shrugs. "Far as I know. Last I saw, she was arguing with Lamb." Dick looks thoughtful. "She might have been bleeding though."

He gestures to his neck and Logan's mouth drops open.

"Someone cut her neck? Shit."

 _Fuck, Veronica, what were you thinking?_

"I'm sure she's fine," Dick says dismissively, as if it's no big deal. "Saw the EMTs checking her over when I left."

Logan's torn between wishing he could go home and make sure she's all right, and being pissed at her for putting herself in danger, for getting mixed up with the likes of the Gutierrez cousins.

"Yo, Logan?" Dick waves his hand across the screen. "You still with me?"

"Look, Dick, I gotta go."

Dick holds up his hands. "Just thought I should let you know."

He ends the call, pulls up the browser, then sits, staring at the blank email for a long moment, before closing it again. He's pissed, body wound tight, frustrated with Veronica for being reckless. He's heard about Rico and Eduardo, about what their family is involved in, and he doesn't want Veronica anywhere near them.

He needs a few hours to digest, to cool down, before he emails her again.

* * *

Of course, it's typical that when the anger has dissolved and he's calmed down enough to talk to her rationally, the internet goes down and doesn't get fixed until Monday morning.

At least he's been cleared to fly though, the sinus infection completely gone, and he has a mission scheduled for this afternoon. His first two briefs are early morning, which means he has an hour or so free, so he heads up to the busy computer lab to see if Veronica's online. Her last email suggested a Skype date Sunday night her time, and though it must be getting late there, he hopes she's still up.

She is, and he starts the call, smiling when her face appears before him. The camera is lined up properly this time so they are looking right at each other. It's more intimate than the last time and that thought causes a shiver to run down his spine. She's dressed in one of his favourite striped shirts, her hair loose and falling around her shoulders. She looks amazing.

"There you are." He grins, his earlier worry and frustration toward her dissipating completely.

"Here I am," she responds, a long moment later— _great, there's a lag again_ —a hint of teasing in her tone. "So how long do you have?"

He sighs. "Not long enough. Fifteen, twenty minutes? There's a wait list for the computers." He gives a rueful smile. "Hey, so sorry I had to miss our last date. I, uh, lost my internet privileges. Something about insubordination."

He's kind of embarrassed to admit that, knowing it was stupid and immature. Mouth might be his call sign, but he's prided himself on keeping his cool the last few years and not getting himself into trouble.

Her eyes widen, her expression mocking. "That doesn't sound like you."

He smiles, giving a sheepish shrug. "It was a frame job, I tell you."

"So, business as usual," she says lightly.

He laughs, glad she's not judging him, then realises that the screen has frozen, Veronica's lips curled up in a soft smile. He holds his breath for a moment, before it unfreezes and he sees her say, "Can you see me now?"

This has been happening a lot lately, though more on his end than on hers, since apparently Mac has set up some snazzy software to optimise her video calls, while the military computers here on the ship are ageing and painfully slow.

 _Why is it when Dick calls, the reception is great, but whenever I want to talk to Veronica, it goes to shit?_

He smirks at the camera. "Billions of dollars of defence technology at work."

An awkward silence falls between them for a moment, before Logan smiles softly, taking her in. She looks a little tired, but she's still undeniably beautiful.

"You look great."

"Thanks." She looks down, her voice coming out as a whisper, and he grins at her sudden shyness. It's strange to see her timid like this. "How're you doing?"

"I'm okay." He nods. "The flight surgeon cleared me yesterday. I'll be on deck for a mission this afternoon, so it may be a few days before I can email you again."

He licks his lips. He wants to ask about the party last week, about kissing Dick. He wants to make sure she's safe and unharmed. He scans her neck for any sign of a cut, but her hair is in the way, so he can't tell. Thing is, he doesn't have much time and he has a feeling that conversation isn't going to be quick or pleasant, so he changes tack, turning to the subject of her email.

"So, how's Lianne?"

She tilts her head to the side, contemplatively. "Well, she's clean now. She's got a new family, a new life."

"Yeah?" Her tone is breezy, but he knows her well enough to detect that it's mostly just a front, so he tries to coax it out of her. "How're _you_ doing?"

She hesitates for a moment—or at least he thinks she does, it's hard to tell with the lag.

"I'm...fine." He almost interjects to protest that she doesn't _look_ that fine, but decides against it. "I mean, it hasn't been easy, seeing her again like this. But I made my choice a long time ago. And so did she."

She laughs, short and loaded. The sound reverberates right through him and he aches to reach out and touch her, to pull her into his arms and offer the comfort she needs.

"It seems like she was really happy, before all this happened. Apparently no one in her new life drives her to drink."

There's a hint of bitterness in her tone and Logan's brow furrows. _Shit_. She can't think she has anything to do with Lianne's problems with alcohol or her decision to leave?

"Veronica," he starts softly. "You know she didn't leave because of you, right?"

She doesn't say anything, which is all the answer he needs. She looks young, her expression troubled, eyes full of worry and fear, lips downturned. He just wants to hug her.

"Look, you didn't need her anyway," he says. "You were much better off with just your dad."

It's not until he's finished talking that he realises she's saying his name in question, a frown on her face. The screen must have frozen again. _Fucking crap connection._

"Are you there?" he asks when he can't see her moving anymore, her features lined with static. He leans forward, brow furrowed as he inspects the screen. "Veronica? Are you there?"

There's no response. The connection has dropped.

"Shit!" He slaps his hand on the desk. "Fuck it."

He spends the next few minutes trying to get back online so he can reconnect the call, but the internet seems to have cut out completely… again.

"Well, that's just fucking perfect." So much left unsaid, so much he wants to talk to her about and the fucking technology's getting in the way.

 _I need to get off this ship._

* * *

With mission planning and six-hour flights on both Monday and Tuesday, it's early afternoon on Wednesday before Logan can use the computers again. He's in the middle of checking his emails when a new one from Veronica pops into his inbox. He frowns as he clicks on it. It's the middle of the night in Neptune, why is she emailing now?

* * *

 _From: vmars at gmail. com_

 _To: logan. echolls at navy. mil_

 _Date: 30th March 2016 02:15 PST (30th March 2016 13:15 ship time)_

 _Subject_ : _Are you there?_

 _I know this is a long-shot, but I'm really hoping you're online right now._

 _I need to talk to you._

 _Can you Skype?_

 _V_

* * *

His heart starts beating faster in his chest as he foregoes a reply and immediately signs into his Skype account. _Something's wrong_. Her call comes through almost immediately, and for once, the connection is working well.

Logan sucks in a breath when she appears on the screen before him. She's dressed in one of his shirts, her hair a tangled mess, and she looks pale, mascara smudged and running down her cheeks. She's been crying.

"Logan." Her voice comes out in a relieved rush of air.

"Veronica? What's wrong?"

"I, um… " She presses her lips together, her brow furrowing as if she's trying not to cry.

She reaches out, picks up a glass of water, brings it to her lips. Her hand is shaking slightly and he can make out a bruise on her wrist.

"Shit, you're shaking," he observes. "Are you okay? What happened to your wrist?"

"I found Lianne's daughter tonight," she starts, not answering his question. "She's alive. She's also a con artist."

"She's what?"

She gives a humourless laugh. "Turns out the second disappearance was a hoax. Lianne's husband, Tanner, is a con man; he used to rope his daughter into his scams. They saw how much money was being raised for Hayley Dewalt and wanted in on the action. So, they set it up so Aurora would go missing and Tanner would collect the money. Only he didn't bank on her working against him."

"So, what happened?" Logan gestures to her dishevelled appearance.

"I figured out something was fishy and I went to her gay best friend, Adrian's, apartment to find out what he knew." She sighs, looking heavenward. "Turns out he's not gay after all, it was just a cover so he and Aurora could date. They were working together against her father."

She runs a hand through her hair, then winces. Logan straightens in his seat, watching her carefully.

"Aurora was there. She tasered me." Giving a soft snort, Veronica rubs at her chest. "Been a long time since I was on the receiving end; it's fucking painful. Adrian tied me up, then Aurora grabbed my hair and gagged me with a scarf."

"Fuck, Veronica," he hisses, rage and horror flowing through him.

"My dad showed up right after that. Just in time too; they were in the middle of debating how to get rid of me." She shakes her head. "I used the distraction to get free of the restraints. Seems they didn't check too thoroughly, because I still had my gun, the one Dad gave me the other day."

Logan isn't sure whether to be relieved or worried that she's carrying a gun now. Sure, he's had military weapons training, is completely comfortable with carrying and firing a gun, but as far as he knows, she doesn't have any real experience with firearms.

"I burst through the door, holding the gun; Adrian was beating my dad with a metal cane, so I fired at a lamp to get their attention. Lamb showed up right after that."

 _Thank God she didn't have to shoot anyone._

"Shit, Veronica."

"Yeah, my sentiments exactly."

"But you're okay, right?"

She nods. "Mostly just shaken up."

"I'm not surprised," he says softly, then studies her for a moment. "You've been crying."

"Yeah." She nods. "It's been a long night."

"I wish I was there with you."

"I wish you were here too," she admits, her face crumpling slightly, before she gets herself under control.

Logan watches the change in her demeanour and wishes, just for once, that she would let herself be vulnerable around him.

"I miss you so much, Logan," she says then. "Like, it actually hurts when I think about how far away you are and how much I just want to hold you and never let go."

 _Maybe I spoke too soon._ This is the most honest she's been about her feelings since he left.

"I miss you too, Veronica." He sighs. "It's killing me, being stuck out here without you."

She shakes her head slightly. "I'm sorry, you know."

He frowns. "For what?"

She shrugs. "I know I haven't been very…forthcoming about how I feel lately."

"It's okay, Veronica. I don't expect—"

She cuts him off. "It's just that if I keep things light, it dulls this constant ache in my chest that I get from missing you."

"Veronica…"

"So, I'm sorry," she repeats. "But you have to know that even though I don't say it, it doesn't mean I don't... feel things."

"I know. I get it. I do," he assures her, trying not to grin at her admission. _She feels things._ "And, you know, me too."

She grins at him, then nods. "Yeah."

She reaches for her glass of water again and he notices she's no longer shaking.

"Are you okay now? You seem calmer."

She nods. "Yeah, I think so. Talking to you is helping."

He smiles. He gestures just below his eyes. "You, uh, you've got…"

"What?" She frowns.

He just comes out with it. "Your mascara's running."

She huffs a small laugh. "I'm sure it is, but I'm too tired to care right now."

"Fair enough." He nods. "So, I uh, talked to Dick last week. He might've mentioned something about you kissing him?"

He tries not to smile when her cheeks flush and she looks down.

"Yeah… about that." She looks up again, cringing. "It was a case of desperate times… see, I was in a bit of a jam at this party and—"

"Hey, it's okay." He holds up a hand to stop her. "I get it. You were working."

"The guy throwing the party had a knife to my throat," she admits, her hand coming up to trace the faint line along her neck. Logan's eyes follow the movement, glad to see it's not as bad as he feared. "I was panicking a little, so when I saw Dick come in, he was my escape."

"I figured it was something like that," says Logan. "He mentioned seeing your neck bleeding."

She cringes. "Yeah, it wasn't my best decision. I'd already called Lamb, tipped him off. I was about to get out of there, but one of Rico's guys found me, cornered me in the library."

Logan studies her for a moment, before taking a breath and saying softly, "Look, I'm not even going to attempt to tell you to stop, because I know you, but just promise me you'll be careful, okay? I don't know what I'd do if you got seriously hurt on a job."

She looks at him for a moment, before nodding slowly. "Well, I can't promise to avoid danger completely, but I do promise to be careful. I'm going to learn how to use my gun properly too."

"Thank you. And good idea, with the gun. If you want, when I get back, I can give you a couple lessons."

"Thanks. I'd like that." She smiles. "And the same goes for you too, by the way. Please don't do anything too risky. I don't ever want to be on the receiving end of one of those military bereavement phone calls, okay?"

"Okay. Come back to you in one piece. I got it." He grins.

"You'd better," she retorts, though her tone is lighter now.

"You should get some sleep," he says when she yawns widely, covering her mouth with her hand. "It's, what, three in the morning for you?"

"Yeah." She nods. "Yeah, I should go. Thank you. For being online. For listening."

"No problem, Veronica." He smiles. "You know you can talk to me any time, about anything you want. Even if I can't Skype often, just email me, okay? Whenever you like."

"Okay," she agrees. "Bye, Logan. Take care."

"Bye, Veronica." He presses his fingertips to his mouth, kissing them lightly, then pressing them to the screen.

She smiles widely, even as she shakes her head at the gesture, then, looking a little embarrassed, she blows him a kiss in return.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

It seems as though the events of Veronica's case have opened the floodgates, because over the next couple of weeks, her emails start getting longer, more personal, and it's something Logan's glad for. As fun as it is trading barbs and witty wordplay, sometimes you just need to have a real conversation.

It's actually Veronica's idea, which surprises him a little considering her usual reluctance to divulge personal feelings, but he's happy to play along.

* * *

 _From: vmars at gmail. com_

 _To: logan. echolls at navy. mil_

 _Date: 10th April 2016 23:15 PST (11th April 2016 10:15 ship time)_

 _Subject_ : _Shall We Play a Game?_

 _Hey Logan,_

 _I know we covered some of the more serious stuff in our lives in those two weeks before you left, but I met Lianne and Hunter for lunch yesterday, and I realised when Hunter asked me about you that we didn't really cover many of the 'normal' things people talk about when getting to know each other._

 _So, I propose a game. Let's play a kind of Twenty Questions, see if we can learn some new things about each other. What do you think?_

 _I'll go first – I'll pose a question and answer it, then you answer that question and then add a new one, along with your answer._

 _Here goes, it's an easy one, but a two-parter (since I might already know your first answer):_

 _1.a) What is your favourite movie ever?_

 _b) What about from the past 10... no, 9 years (let's make it relevant, shall we)?_

 _Okay, so for a), you're probably thinking it's The Big Lebowski or something, but actually, I don't think I ever told you what my absolute favourite movie is. It's kind of my secret favourite, since it wasn't cool to like it when it came out. My dad knows, but no one else, not even Lilly._

 _Drumroll please….it's The South Park Movie._

 _Yeah, yeah, I know what you're thinking, but you know, it has everything: musical numbers, crude language, stupid jokes… everything I could want in a movie._

 _As for b), that's a tough one—mainly because I don't think there have been that many great movies released in recent years. I'm going to have to go with one that makes me laugh and lifts me out of a bad mood every time: Guardians of the Galaxy._

 _There is a bit of backstory to it—when the movie came out, I was in the middle of a summer internship with a law firm in New York. It was really intense and I was working way too hard and wearing myself down. And to add insult to injury, the guy I was sort-of seeing had just dumped me and I was feeling sorry for myself. My roommate was determined to get me out of the apartment and take my mind off everything. Turns out it was just what I needed—Guardians was the first movie in months that made me laugh and made me forget about life for a while._

 _So, that's my answer. Looking forward to hearing yours, and to answering whatever you come up with._

 _Miss you,_

 _Veronica_

* * *

Logan grins at the screen as he reads the email. Her answers are interesting to read, but it's her 'Miss you' at the end that gets to him. It's been a while since she ended an email with anything but her name.

 _From: logan. echolls at navy. mil_

 _To: vmars at gmail. com_

 _Date: 11th April 2016 00:15 PST (11th April 2016 11:15 ship time)_

 _Subject_ : _RE: Shall We Play a Game?_

 _Hey Veronica,_

 _I think I can manage a few questions._

 _First off, before I give you my answers, I'll respond to yours._

 _I don't think you were as secretive as you thought, because I already knew about your love for the South Park Movie. Don't ask me how (because I don't know), but Lilly did know it was your favourite… she told me one day when we were hanging out in the pool house. It was on TV and she let it slip._

 _I enjoy Guardians of the Galaxy too. I didn't see it at the movies or anything, but it was a favourite on the ship during a 4-week exercise last year. I'm sorry you were having a tough time during law school—I hope you weren't working yourself too hard. I'm not gonna ask about the guy, at least not now anyway, since I'm sure I'd rather not know the details._

 _So, onto my answers: I'd have to say my favourite movie is still Easy Rider, and you already know the reasons why._

 _The answer to b) is trickier, as I haven't seen that many movies in recent years… or at least not that many made since 2007. The Hurt Locker is one that stood out to me, for obvious reasons, and The Hangover is a nice escape from reality, but the one movie that really spoke to me was the 2010 adaptation of On The Road by Jack Kerouac._

 _I guess now I need to come up with question 2… so here goes:_

 _2) If you could go anywhere in the world, where would it be and why?_

 _When I was a kid, we travelled a lot, mostly in the US and Europe—I already mentioned the summer in Paris, but there were extended visits to places like London, Munich, and Dublin too. Of course, the Navy offers ample travel opportunities and last deployment, we docked in a few Asian ports on the way._

 _If I could pick just one place to go, I think it would have to be some deserted island in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. Somewhere we could escape from the world, leave all the crap behind—the tabloids, the attention, the judgement—and just live in peace. Just you, me, the sun, the surf… the simple life. Actually, that's not quite true. I would need a plane there too, so I could fly whenever I wanted, even take you up with me if you liked._

 _Miss you, too,_

 _L_

* * *

Logan isn't able to check his emails again for a few days, with missions and mandatory physical training taking up most of his time, along with social events with his squadron in the evenings, but when he does, he's pleased to find another message from Veronica.

 _From: vmars at gmail. com_

 _To: logan. echolls at navy. mil_

 _Date: 11th April 2016 12:15 PST (11th April 2016 23:15 ship time)_

 _Subject_ : _RE: Shall We Play a Game?_

 _Attachment: 1 photo_

 _Hi Logan,_

 _I'm in the office and bored, so I figured I'd write now instead of tonight like I'd planned :)._

 _Ah, Easy Rider, of course – a classic, right? I will admit I haven't seen or read On The Road… bad of me, I know, but that just means something new to introduce me to when you get back._

 _Okay, so on to my answer to question 2:_

 _2) If you could go anywhere in the world, where would it be and why?_

 _Did you know I spent a few months travelling after Stanford? You might have been wondering why I only finished law school last summer, when I probably should have graduated a few years ago. The reason is actually two-fold: firstly, I ended up spending four years at Stanford, not three, because my credits from Hearst didn't transfer, and secondly, because I decided to switch majors, so I basically restarted from scratch with freshman year and graduated with the class of 2011._

 _It was a long, intensive four years, and after graduation, I decided to take a year off before law school. The plan was to get a job or an internship, gain some experience before I started at Columbia, but then Dad gave me this amazing graduation present and that plan went out of the window. He had some money set aside from a lucrative case and he insisted that I use it to 'see the world'._

 _Well, I didn't quite 'see the world'—it wasn't that much money—but it was enough to get me across the pond. Instead of an internship, I got a job in Palo Alto for a few months first, saved some money of my own, then explored Europe for the last three months of the year. I even spent some time in Italy, which was amazing (especially the food :P)._

 _Anyway, that was my long-winded way of saying that, like you, I've seen a lot of Europe already. While your idea of you, me, and a deserted island sounds pretty great, the one place I would love to visit is Japan. I know, that's probably not what you were expecting, but at Stanford, one of the girls in my dorm was from Japan and she used to tell us all about the culture and the food and everything—it was fascinating._

 _Okay, let's think… question 3:_

 _3) When did you last do karaoke and what did you sing?_

 _My last karaoke experience was in New York about two years ago (so, I don't karaoke much, sue me). We'd just finished finals and some of the guys decided we needed to blow off steam in a karaoke bar. I ended up on stage with a bunch of them singing a medley of I Fought The Law and This Side of the Law. It wasn't pretty—I was pretty drunk by that point._

 _So, that's my answer, looking forward to hearing yours._

 _Oh, before I go, guess what appeared on my doorstep this morning? You're not going to, so I'm just going to tell you: the May copy of Vanity Fair. Now, you're probably thinking: 'so what?', but rather than explain, I'll just show you via the attached photo (I've made the file as small as I can, so hopefully you can open it)._

 _Oh wow, just realised we only have 99 days to go now… we've made it under the 100 mark!_

 _Take care,_

 _Veronica_

* * *

Curious, Logan clicks on the attachment, enlarging it to find it's a screenshot of page from Vanity Fair and staring out at him is Veronica herself, arms crossed, a sassy smile on her face. He grins, at it, so typical for her, then notices a small photo of himself and Carrie in the corner. With a slight frown, he scans over the short article. It seems to be a profile on Veronica, on her PI skills and how she cleared him of Carrie's murder and found the real killer.

While it's somewhat disconcerting to have reminders of what happened, of Carrie, jumping out at him, he's proud of Veronica, and pleased for her too. The article is very complimentary toward her investigative skills and even mentions her involvement in the Hayley Dewalt case.

With another glance over it, he starts composing his reply to her.

* * *

 _From: logan. echolls at navy. mil_

 _To: vmars at gmail. com_

 _Date: 14th April 2016 18:33 PST (15th April 2016 05:33 ship time)_

 _Subject_ : _RE: Shall We Play a Game?_

 _Hey V,_

 _Wow, look at you, making it in the world (and into Vanity Fair)! I'm dating a celebrity!_

 _Seriously though, I'm proud of you. You deserve that article, and more high-profile cases. I hope this helps to bring in more work._

 _Down to this question business though:_

 _You travelled around Europe? I feel like I should have known about that (though why would I, huh?). Italy is a great place—I've been to Rome a couple of times. Don't know what the rest of the country is like, but I found the city kinda dirty. It's like they don't care that their buildings are crumbling around them or that everything is covered in graffiti._

 _It's interesting you mention Japan, because there's a US Naval base in Yokosuka and a chance I could end up stationed there at some point. You know, if you're interested in experiencing life there in the future._

 _The last time I did karaoke… uh, it was two nights ago, actually. Cosmo dug out an ageing karaoke machine and set it up in the rec room. The bastard made me stand up and serenade the room with 'You've Lost That Lovin' Feeling'… and of course, with a room full of guys and only two female officers, I was a laughing stock. Which, to be fair, was the point. And that's not even considering that, unlike you, I don't have the voice of an angel… nowhere near, in fact (there's a reason you've never heard me sing)._

 _Well, that's my karaoke story, so on to the next question (number 4, right?):_

 _4)_ _What's the most unusual thing you've ever eaten?_

 _Growing up, I ate a fair amount of obscure food—my mom was kind of obsessed with all the latest fads and crazes, so we ate all kinds of things. However, the most unusual thing I've eaten was in Macau, China. It's a strange place, Macau, half-Portuguese and half-Chinese (like Hong Kong, it was a European overseas territory), and everything is either written in Cantonese or Portuguese… and not in English._

 _We were on shore leave in Hong Kong for a couple of days on the way back from our last deployment, and a few of us took the ferry to Macau. We ended up in a small, local restaurant and just ordered whatever looked interesting (without knowing what it was). I ended up with fried frogs legs, which were actually pretty good. I'm just glad I didn't end up with Cosmo's dish—Serpent Head Soup. He couldn't even look at it without barfing._

 _So, we're down to double figures now, huh? Time_ is _flying (note the sarcasm)._

 _Mi manchi (let's test your Italian, huh?)_

 _L_

* * *

Over the next two weeks, tensions start to rise in theatre. They've been getting closer to identifying a group of insurgents thought to be responsible for a spate of bomb attacks which have killed scores of civilians in various cities in Iraq. As a result, Logan's been flying long missions almost daily, and he's exhausted. He's been so busy that hasn't even had a chance to reply to Veronica's latest emails yet.

As a pilot, he is required to take 12 hours of crew rest between each flight, but even with that much rest, the long missions, coupled with hours of planning and briefings, are taking their toll. Any day now, he's going to have to fire weapons that will take out those insurgents, and it's weighing on his mind. Even with all the training, even being able to compartmentalise and distance himself from the emotional side of it, it's still something he can't quite get used to doing.

The dark, enclosed spaces below deck have been getting to him, so when there's no flying going on, he's been exercising up on the flight deck—the large space is great for running and it has that much-needed natural light. Only problem is, it's fucking hot up there—the sun is brutal and temperatures hit well over a hundred degrees every day—and he can only manage a few minutes at a time.

On Saturday, he begs off movie night in the rec room, needing some time alone, away from the guys, away from the job. Lying atop his bunk, the small room empty around him, and Veronica's voice in his ear, he can escape from ship life for a while. His eyes drift closed as he thinks back to her last email—the one he read this afternoon—it was certainly not her usual fare and he can't get the words out of his head… hell, he's not even sure how he managed to keep his cool earlier when he read it in the middle of the computer lab.

* * *

 _From: vmars at gmail. com_

 _To: logan. echolls at navy. mil_

 _Date: 22nd April 2016 23:15 PST (23rd April 2016 10:15 ship time)_

 _Subject_ : _Going crazy…_

 _So, I've decided I need help. I'm distracted all the time and since it's your fault, you get to be the one to hear all about it._

 _I can't sleep. Some days I can barely even think straight. In fact, all I can think about at the moment is those amazing two weeks we shared before you deployed. Can you believe it's been 3 months to the day since you left? That's 3 whole months without sex, Logan. It's just not fair._

 _I mean, at first, it was okay; I was dealing with it, I had distractions. There were lots of things to occupy my time—my dad, the business, cases—but lately… God, I can't stop thinking about you, Logan. I close my eyes and all I see is how incredible you looked in your uniform that last morning. All I can think about is that last night we spent together._

 _You know, it's always been great between us, but that night… God, I can't even think about it without blushing. The way you touched me, the way you made me feel (insert cheesy Jacko reference here)… everything we did._

 _Some nights, when I'm lying in bed, all I can think about is your hands on me, knowing exactly where to touch me, your tongue finding that one spot that makes me come every time, and next thing I know, I'm touching myself, imagining it's your hands on me, until I'm coming apart with your name on my lips._

 _It's not the same though, it never has been, but it's all I have until you come back to me._

 _So, please, you have to come back. Sex aside, I don't think I could survive if you didn't._

 _Please._

 _V_

 _P.S. Expect the next email to be an embarrassed plea to forget you ever read this. Forgive me, I'm tired and horny (and I may or may not have consumed 3 glasses of wine this evening)… not a good combination._

* * *

Logan _had_ been doing a pretty good job of coping with the lack of sex for the last few month, but then he read that email earlier and all he's been able to think about since is Veronica, naked, touching herself, making herself come with her hands. He's been hard ever since he lay down on his bunk.

It's been a good while since he's had any alone time at all. Personal time is not exactly abundant on a ship filled with over 5,000 seamen, especially not when you have to share a cramped living space with several other guys. The showers aren't an option, since water is scarce and he's expected to take showers of no more than two minutes in length, particularly when water supplies are low and they are restricted to Navy showers only: you know, water on, get wet, water off, lather up, water on, rinse, water off. Anyone caught taking a Hollywood shower—taking their time and not turning the water off in the middle—is quickly reprimanded.

In general though, the guys are pretty good at giving each other privacy when it's needed. From the nods Chaos and Bilbo gave him before he exited the rec room earlier, he's pretty sure he's got the room to himself for a while. He tugs the small curtain around his bunk and settles back against the pillows, Veronica's breathy voice in his ears only serving to fuel his arousal as his hand slides down over his stomach and into his boxers.

* * *

 _From:_ _logan. echolls at navy. mil_

 _To: vmars at gmail. com_

 _Date: 23rd April 2016 22:36 PST (24th April 2016 09:36 ship time)_

 _Subject: RE: Going crazy…_

 _Veronica,_

 _First off, you have nothing to be embarrassed about. You never need to apologise for how you feel. Plus, that email was hot :P. So, please, feel free to keep telling me all of your frustrations, whenever you like._

 _Sorry I haven't replied in a while. Things have been stressful here the last few days and your emails—not to mention your voice tracks and videos—have been a very welcome distraction. I believe I'm a little behind on the whole question-answering thing and I see you've taken it upon yourself to ask a couple more in my absence. Since I have some time now, I'll see if I can catch up (warning: these will be pretty short, sorry)._

 _5)_ _What is your proudest accomplishment?_

 _Getting my wings. Not just because I'd made it through flight school, but because it was the first time I actually felt like I'd made something of myself. It wasn't handed to me, I had to work for it. It was tough and gruelling, but despite the odds (and despite what my OC thought), I stuck with it and I made it._

 _Your proudest accomplishment is graduating from Stanford? I wouldn't have guessed that one, though I can understand why. It was your dream for so long, after all._

 _6) Would you rather ride a bike, ride a horse, or drive a car?_

 _Seriously? What kind of question is this? And why is there no 'fly a plane' option? I'm surprised you would rather ride a horse… I seem to recall a certain story about your misadventures with Lilly at the petting zoo when you were kids._

 _Well, if plane isn't an option, I guess I'd have to go with driving a car. Bicycles don't hold particularly pleasant memories for me, for reasons I'd rather not disclose right now, and although I learned to ride a horse on a Texas movie set when I was a kid, it wasn't something I enjoyed that much._

 _Driving a car though, that's probably about as close an experience to flying a jet as I can get on land. Speeding along the PCH, top down, music cranked up, wind rushing past… it's very freeing._

 _Okay, so that's your questions answered. I guess I owe you two back…_

 _7) If you could only eat one meal for the rest of your life, what would it be?_

 _Hmm, let's see… I get 3 courses, right?_

 _Well, the appetiser would have to be those jalapeno poppers from that place on Main in Neptune. For the entrée, the signature steak from this incredible restaurant in New York. I haven't been there in years, but their steak is out of this world—I'll have to take you there sometime. And for dessert: hot fudge sundae from Amy's, eaten off your naked body… in my bed._

 _8) What three things do you think of the most each day?_

 _Kissing you. Licking you. Fucking you._

 _(You're not the only horny one, believe me)_

 _L_

* * *

 _From: vmars at gmail. com_

 _To: logan. echolls at navy. mil_

 _Date: 24th April 2016 19:13 PST (25th April 2016 08:13 ship time)_

 _Subject: RE: Going crazy…_

 _Logan,_

 _Yeah, I'm embarrassed. Can't help it and I don't think anything you say will help with that._

 _But anyhoo, I have news—I'm going to be moving into my own place in a few weeks! I found this really great third-floor apartment a few minutes' walk from Dog Beach. It's not extravagant, but it's affordable, and much bigger than my tiny studio in Brooklyn._

 _I also have a new car too—as much as I enjoy driving your fancy BMW, I still feel like I'm sneaking around, driving it without permission. Plus, I need my own transport too… I mean, it's your car, not mine… I can't keep driving it when you get back, and I'm not gonna borrow Dad's like I'm a teenager (hell, I didn't even borrow it when I was a teenager). It's nothing fancy, just a second-hand RAV4, but it's convenient and much easier for surveillance, since your car's too low to be able to see over the traffic._

 _I saw Lianne and Hunter yesterday too. It's still awkward with Lianne—it's hard to talk to her, you know? I don't really know how to act around her—but Hunter is such a sweet kid, and he seems so excited to see me (can't think why, I'm terrible with kids), that I can't say no._

 _Okay, I think that's all my news for now… no, wait—I got accepted for the California bar exam the other day. So, fingers crossed, by the end of July, I'll be a full-fledged lawyer too._

 _So many changes right now, geez._

 _On to your questions:_

 _7) If you could only eat one meal for the rest of your life, what would it be?_

 _You know me: Italian all the way, so it's got to be the ole' go-to: Mama Leone's lasagne with garlic bread. And for dessert… waffles and ice cream… my favourite. Since I don't think eating pasta off your naked body would be the wisest idea, I'm going to have to steal your answer for the dessert-eating setting ;)_

 _8) What three things do you think of the most each day?_

 _How in the hell do I stand a chance of beating your answer? I'm a little concerned that flying your plane wasn't one of your answers, though… I'd hate to be your wingman right now!_

 _For the first answer, I'm going to have to combine all three of yours into one and just say simply: You._

 _As for the other two: my dad and my latest case._

 _But for the record, thoughts of you take up a much more significant proportion of my time than the latter two._

 _Right, question nine:_

 _9) What's the longest you've gone without sleep (and why)?_

 _For me, it was at Stanford, sophomore year (technically, my third year of college). I was… well, I wasn't doing well. At all. I'd let the work get on top of me, and I got too emotionally involved in a particular case study for my child psychology class. It was all taking a toll on me. I was restless at night and starting to fall behind in my classes because I wasn't getting enough sleep. I had all these assignments piling up and I ended up pulling all-nighters just to get it all done, then dosing up on caffeine to stay awake in the day._

 _My record was two-and-a-half days without sleep._

 _It got so bad that I ended up at the student medical center, suffering from exhaustion and dehydration. The way-too-observant doctor realised it wasn't just schoolwork getting me down and ran some tests. I was diagnosed with depression, which is how I ended up in therapy._

 _Sorry, didn't mean for this to get so maudlin. I'll stop now._

 _On a more positive note: we're at 86 days now._

 _Still missing you like crazy,_

 _Veronica_

* * *

Monday is a tough day for Logan. It's the first time he's actually had to kill someone under orders. Sure, he's launched air strikes before, but the targets he was assigned were all inanimate objects—buildings storing weapons, empty trucks or other vehicles. He can't say for sure that no one got hurt in those previous strikes, but if they did, it was unintentional.

Today though… today he looked through the lens, he tracked the insurgent, locked onto the target, and fired. He watched his missile reach its target. He witnessed the explosion. He saw the aftermath.

He's a killer. There's no other word for it. He killed someone today. On purpose.

It doesn't matter that he didn't have a choice, that this is his job—the job he chose. It doesn't matter that the target was an evildoer, was the enemy, that he fired the missile in the line of duty. At the end of the day, Logan Echolls killed a man.

He sits at the dining table in the dirty shirt mess hall, head bowed, hands clasped around the back of his neck, stomach churning and muscles coiled. It's been five hours since he pressed the weapon release button, two hours since he arrived back on the carrier—ironically, catching the third wire first time in a perfect landing—and he's still wound tight, unable to calm down.

 _Fuck, I need a drink._

He's extremely glad that the carrier is dry, because the way he's feeling right now… AA be damned, he would be in that bar, downing whisky in a heartbeat.

"You okay, man?" A hand clasps his shoulder, a body sliding into the chair beside him. It's Cosmo, his WSO. "You did good today."

Logan sighs, eyes still fixed on the table before him. "Yeah. Maybe."

"'S'not easy. Never is."

Logan lifts his head, turns to Cosmo. "But, _'it's the obligation we have to our country'_ , right?"

Cosmo shakes his head. "'S'not what I was gonna say. Look, it fuckin' sucks, and it don't get easier. Even when you're not even pulling the trigger yourself, it's tough."

"So, what do I do? How do I deal with it?"

"You just gotta believe you're doin' the right thing, making the world a better place." His squadron-mate shrugs, running a hand across the top of his close-shaven blond head. "If all else fails, seek comfort in the people you love."

Logan nods slowly. "Talk to Veronica, you mean?"

Cosmo nods. "Sometimes you just gotta talk to someone away from the situation. I don' mean unload all the psychological crap on her or nothin'—can't talk 'bout that shit anyway—but, you know, she could take your mind off things."

"Yeah," says Logan, resisting the urge to head straight for the computer lab to see if she's online. "Yeah, maybe she could."

"And if you're still feeling fucked up, go see the Med Center shrink. Heard she did wonders for Bubba last tour."

"Yeah. Thanks, man."

"No problem." Standing up, Cosmo claps his shoulder again. "And get some sleep. We got a long day again tomorrow."

Logan nods again, eyes following his Wizzo as he heads out of the room, then stands himself and makes his way up to the computer lab. Surprisingly, there are a couple of PCs free, and he slides in front of one. Loading up Skype, he's disappointed to find that Veronica's not online. Honestly, he wasn't really expecting her to be, given that it's mid-morning in Neptune, but his heart sinks anyway.

Opening up a new email, his fingers hover over the keys, preparing to tell her about his day, but something prevents the words from making it onto the page. _I can't unload this on her_ , _she might run a mile_. With a sigh and a small shake of his head, he instead composes a reply to her previous message, trying to keep the tone as light as he can.

 _From: logan. echolls at navy. mil_

 _To: vmars at gmail. com_

 _Date: 25th April 2016 09:48 PST (25th April 2016 20:48 ship time)_

 _Subject: RE: Going crazy…_

 _V,_

 _Great news about the new apartment—can't wait to see it. I'm a little hurt about the abandonment of my poor car though, what did she ever do to you? :P Seriously though, I'm glad you're getting back on your feet again._

 _I think it's good that you're spending time with your mom and Hunter too. I know it's awkward, but I think it's the right thing for all of you._

 _Congrats on getting accepted for the bar exam. It'll be a breeze, I'm sure. Study hard!_

 _I've had a long-as-fuck day, so I hope you don't mind if I skip your question right now. I'll get to it another time, I promise._

 _However, I will put another one into the mix:_

 _10) What is your favorite zoo animal?_

 _Silly, I know, but I need something lighthearted today._

 _So, here goes: my favourite zoo animal is the clouded leopard. I don't really have a reason for that choice, other than that their markings are really cool and they climb trees. My favourite used to be spider monkeys, but I changed my mind after an unfortunate trip to the zoo for my 10_ _th_ _birthday._

 _L_

He sends the email before he has a chance to overthink it or suddenly spill his guts, then closes the browser and logs off, heading out of the computer lab.

* * *

 _From: vmars at gmail. com_

 _To: logan. echolls at navy. mil_

 _Date: 25th April 2016 10:05 PST (25th April 2016 21:05 ship time)_

 _Subject: Everything okay?_

 _Logan,_

 _Are you all right? You seemed down in your email. I just signed to Skype to see if you're still around, but I guess you've already logged off._

 _I hope everything is okay on the ship. I know you can't tell me any specifics, but if you need someone to talk to, I'm here. Speaking of, I should also be free to Skype any evening/night this week (my time), if you can get a slot. Just let me know when and I'll make time._

 _No worries – just get back to me on number 9 whenever you can (or not, I don't mind)._

 _10) What is your favorite zoo animal?_

 _Let's see… I have a couple: I love the gorillas– they're so human-like that it's really fun to watching them interact. I have a bit of an obsession with sloths too :P._

 _And now my turn:_

 _11)_ _What is your favorite memory?_

 _You know what, I've had the same favorite memory for almost 13 years now. Of course, there have been some wonderful times since then, but there have also been a lot of terrible, horrifying memories mixed in too._

 _Homecoming, 2003._

 _It's my favourite because it was the last time I was really, truly happy. I guess it was the calm before the storm, but back then I was happy and innocent and I thought my life was perfect. My dad was still Sheriff, my parents were together, Duncan and I were oblivious to our potentially dark family secrets, Lilly was alive, you two were happy, and you and I were friends. My only concern in life back then was my mom's drinking. Everything else was pretty much perfect._

 _There are some days when I wish I could just go back to that time, back before everything stopped making sense and my life fell apart. But then, I wouldn't be who I am now if it wasn't for what happened. And we probably wouldn't be where we are either._

 _So, yeah._

 _I really don't know where I'm going with this. I don't want it to become a 'what if I could change the past' discussion, so I'm just gonna stop._

 _Don't work too hard and, Logan, please talk to me if something's wrong. I can't pretend to understand what your life is like on deployment, but I can imagine it's not easy, so I'm here if you need someone to unload on._

 _Still counting the days,_

 _Veronica_


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

 _The sun is just beginning to set on the horizon, casting an ethereal glow across the ocean. Logan props his surfboard against the wall and steps into the beach house through the sliding French doors. His gaze zeroes in on the gorgeous blonde kneeling on the bed and he runs a hand over his scalp, releasing the seawater from his hair. Eyes fixed on Veronica, he tugs off his wetsuit and pads towards her in his swim shorts. She looks incredible, soft, seductive gaze following his every move, his dress shirt draped over her body, slipping off one shoulder to reveal a lacy bra strap beneath. Her hair falls over her shoulder in sexy waves and his cover is perched atop her head. She looks just like in the picture he has on his phone. He hardens immediately and fights back a groan when she licks her lips and smiles predatorily._

 _"Veronica… what are you doing here?"_

 _"What do you mean?" Her lips curl up in a soft smile. "You're the one who's not supposed to be here, silly. You're on deployment. You left me here, all alone… all by myself."_

 _She looks up at him through lowered lashes and Logan swallows harshly. She slips his shirt down over her shoulders, revealing a matching lace bra-and-panty set complete with garter belt, suspenders and stockings._

 _"Shit, Veronica…"_

 _She shrugs out of the shirt, then runs her hands along her stomach, up over her torso, to her breasts. Then she rises up on her knees and reaches up, lifting the cover from her head and placing it on his instead._

 _"Ooh, you're all wet." She observes, running her fingers down his cheek, then tracing the water droplets as they slide over his chest._

 _"I am," he agrees, his voice rough and throaty._

 _"Watch me, Logan."_

 _He frowns. "Watch you what?"_

 _She grins wickedly, one hand sliding down his abdomen as the other mimics the same pattern on her own stomach, before her fingers slip beneath the elastic of her panties._

 _"See what I do when you're not here." She pulls at her bottom lip with her teeth. "Watch me get off thinking of you."_

 _She sinks down onto the bed, stretching out across the mattress, her fingers moving beneath the lacy material. Logan can only watch, his stomach muscles clenching with arousal, as her fingers stroke faster. Her breathing becomes heavy, laboured, and an expression of rapture graces her features._

 _"Logan…"_

 _…_

 _"Logan!"_

 _He blinks, looking around in confusion. He's not in the beach house anymore, and he's not wet. He's in his jet, high in the sky. But Veronica is still in front of him, still wearing that incredible lace ensemble, still with that look on her face. She's perched on his lap, in the cockpit, his flight suit unzipped all the way down as she rides him luxuriously._

 _He should be wondering how the fuck she managed to fit inside the tiny space, let alone have sex with him in it, or for that matter, why he's fucking her mid-flight, but it's been months, he's sex-starved, she's right here… and he can't bring himself to care. She gives him another wicked grin, then stretches out, leaning back against the instrument panel. His hands slide up to her waist, guiding her movements as her inner muscles clench around him deliciously._

 _"Fuck, Veronica…" he grinds out. "Need you."_

 _His fingers dig into her sides, bringing her hips down to meet his as he grinds into her. She's panting and writhing above him and he feels a tightening in his groin. He's getting close._

 _Veronica shifts, the centre stick getting in her way… was it even there just now?... She goes to bat it away and Logan's eyes widen in horror, watching her hand move in slow motion as her fingers catch on the weapon release button._

 _"Shit! No, Veronica!"_

 _…_

 _His surroundings shift again and she's gone. He's fully dressed now, the jet much closer to the ground as he focuses the acquisition lens. He curses as the target comes into focus._

 _"Fuck. No!"_

 _It's too late; the missile has already been released, has locked onto its target; there's no stopping it now. But that's Veronica down there. Vulnerable, alone… and about two seconds away from being blown up. By his missile._

 _He can do nothing but watch in shock and horror as the weapon hits the ground—and Veronica—in a fiery explosion._

 _…_

 _The world shifts again and he's on the ground, kneeling in the blistering hot dust, staring in horror at the mangled body lying before him. Her dead eyes are open, staring up at him, blood coating her face, one side of her head completely burned. More burns run all the way down one arm and her left leg is missing from the knee down, just a bloody, ripped stump._

 _He gags at the smell, and the sight before him, and he stumbles away, emptying the contents of his stomach on the ground. This is all his fault. He killed her. He killed Veronica._

 _His girl is dead. Again. Just like Carrie. Just like Lilly._

 _It's all his fault._

 _…_

Logan wakes with a strangled sob, shooting up in his bunk, breathing heavily. He can still taste the bile in his throat, can still smell the acrid stench of burning, rotting flesh.

"Fuck."

He runs his hands through his hair, resting them on the back of his neck as he tries to get himself under control.

"You okay, Mouth?" comes Chaos' voice from the bunk beneath him.

Logan closes his eyes, then immediately opens them again when the terrifying images assault him once more.

"I will be." His voice comes out strangled, garbled. He adds under his breath, "I hope."

He hears the bed beneath his creak and then Chaos' head appears from under the privacy curtain pulled around the bunk. His friend is looking at him in concern, resting his elbows on the edge of the bed.

"Another nightmare?"

Logan straightens, letting his hands fall to his lap as he looks toward the ceiling, taking in a breath. "Yeah."

"Same one?"

"Similar."

This is the third in the last five days; they've been coming since that first day he shot to kill, and they've been getting progressively worse each time. Sometimes Veronica is taken out by a missile from his jet, other times she's in the jet with him and they crash. He gets out okay, but he's forced to watch his plane crashing into the ground and exploding in a ball of fire, with her inside.

"You should talk to someone." Chaos advises. "Go see Dr. Hayworth."

"Yeah. I know." Logan nods, his heart rate returning to normal, though the nausea doesn't fade. He rests his head in his hands. "I will. When I have time."

* * *

 _From: vmars at gmail. com_

 _To: logan. echolls at navy. mil_

 _Date: 29th April 2016 22:33 PST (30th April 2016 09:33 ship time)_

 _Subject: What's going on?_

 _Logan,_

 _It's been 5 days and I haven't heard from you. I'm starting to get worried. Please, just let me know you're okay._

 _I have all these horrible scenarios running through my mind, so I really need you to tell me you've just been busy and that nothing has happened to you._

 _I was telling Hunter about how you're a badass fighter pilot in the Navy, but I'm not sure he quite believed me, so you need to come home and show him just how cool and badass you are (and that I'm not a liar)._

 _I need you to come back to me,_

 _Veronica_

* * *

Logan hasn't checked his emails in almost two weeks. The nightmares are still plaguing him, and every time he thinks of Veronica, he sees her broken, bloodied, burned body in his mind and he feels sick.

Chaos has been on his back to talk to the shrink but he's been so busy with missions that he's been putting it off. He's been trying to convince himself that they will pass, that if he throws himself into his work, into flying, it will take his mind off the nightmares; but of course, the very nature of the missions means he can't avoid them. It's during the mission on Thursday that everything comes to a head, and he's finally forced into admitting he needs help.

It starts off as a normal mission. He and Cosmo launch with Chaos and his WSO, Gunner. They convene in the air a few miles from the carrier and fly into theatre in formation, same as they did yesterday, and two days before that. He tells himself he's fine as they meet up with the tanker to refuel. He tells himself he's fine as he and Chaos firm up the mission details and approach the target area, as he mentally prepares to carry out his task.

Since OCS training, Logan has prided himself on his ability to keep cool under extreme pressure. He had to, to be successful in his endeavour to get his wings and serve his country, and so far, he's achieved that, but lately, something's changed, and he's been struggling.

As he manoeuvres his jet deeper into theatre, gets closer to the target, he feels his heart starting to beat fast and his breathing becoming shallow. Sweat is beading on his forehead and his hands are beginning to shake.

 _I can do this_ , he thinks. _I_ will _do this._

"Target 100 miles ahead," comes Cosmo's voice in his ear. "You ready, Mouth?"

"Yeah," he manages, though he feels anything but. "I'm ready."

They close in on the GPS coordinates they've been instructed to target and Logan positions the jet. "Target in sight."

Chaos comes over the headset. "Mouth, you got this?"

He looks through the acquisition lens, hand tightening around the centre stick, finger hovering over the weapon release button. The target comes into view and he braces himself.

"Got it," he says into the microphone, feigning confidence.

"Locked on," confirms Chaos from the other jet. "Back up ready."

Logan readies himself to fire, lowers his finger to the release button, but just before he presses down, something catches his eye and he freezes. The target on the ground below, the one he's been tasked to take out, moves into an open space and he realises with a start that the figure is a woman, the outline of her body through his infra-red lens unmistakeably female. He sucks in a sharp breath as visions from his nightmares come flooding back: Veronica dead on the ground, a victim of his own fired weapon, Carrie murdered in the bathtub, Lilly's bashed-in head on that terrible crime scene video.

He stiffens. He can't do this. His breaths are getting faster, but he can't seem to take in any air. His chest is tight, his whole body trembling.

 _I can't breathe. I can't breathe. I can't…_

"Mouth?!"

He's panicking. How can he be panicking? This doesn't happen to him.

"Mouth?! Mouth! Fuck it, man, talk to me."

"I… I can't…" he manages, barely able to force the words out. "I can't do it."

"Shit!" curses Cosmo.

"Mouth? You okay?" says Chaos in his ear. He can't reply. "Cosmo, why isn't he firing?"

"Mouth is… uh…indisposed…" Logan only vaguely hears the conversation around him, his ears ringing as he gasps for breath. "We need to you step in."

"On it." says Chaos. "Oh fuck. Shit!"

"What is it?" asks Cosmo.

"Target lost. Damn it!"

The sharp voice of his CO comes over the radio. "Mouth, Chaos, what the fuck is going on out there?"

"I—" is all Logan can manage.

"Sir, Mouth was having some trouble acquiring the target," Chaos speaks up for him. "I intercepted, but it was too late. We missed the opportunity."

There's a pause before, "I want you both back here ASAP."

"Yes, sir." Chaos replies quickly, before the CO signs off.

"Mouth? Mouth? You hearing me?" Cosmo is trying to get his attention. "You're having a panic attack. Just breathe, okay? Deep breaths. In. Out. In. Out."

Logan tries to listen to his Wizzo's voice, tries to concentrate on regulating his breathing.

"That's it. Come on, man. Keep breathin'."

He closes his eyes, forces himself to relax. An image of Veronica flashes through his mind, not the bloodied, burned Veronica of his nightmares, but the beautiful, relaxed, happy Veronica he spent two glorious weeks with back in January. She smiles and it sends a sense of calm right through him. He feels the tight band around his chest loosen, his surroundings coming back into focus again, and his breathing starts getting easier.

"You good?"

He nods. "Yeah. I think so."

"Ready to turn back?" Cosmo's voice is calming.

"Yeah. Thanks, man."

"I got your six, remember?"

Logan can't think about what just happened. Can't analyse it right now. Instead, he has to fly his plane, land it on the fucking carrier, and he can't do that if he starts freaking out again.

The flight back seems to take forever, and he even barely remembers meeting the tanker to refuel on the way back. By the time he finally succeeds in landing the jet, Logan is on the verge of another panic attack. The moment the canopy opens, he's out of his seat, pulling the helmet off his head and climbing down the steps, taking deep breaths, his hands braced on his knees, head bowed.

Footsteps approach and someone stops in front of him. Logan straightens to find his CO standing before him, looking stern. He notices Cosmo standing to one side, watching him in concern.

"Lt. Echolls," the CO addresses him, jerking his head. "With me."

"Yes, sir."

* * *

"What the hell happened out there, Lieutenant?" Commander Mason leans forward on his desk, hands clasped before him.

Logan straightens in his chair. "I don't know, sir."

Cdr. Mason just lifts a disbelieving eyebrow and Logan sighs.

"I, uh, I don't know… I froze today," he admits.

"Lt. Davison tells me you had a panic attack in the air."

 _Shit_. Logan tenses. "Sir, I…it wasn't…"

"Lt. Echolls… Logan." The commander's expression softens. " _Your_ job is to fly those planes. _My_ job is to ensure my officers are at the top of their game. If something's going on, I need to know about it. I can't have one of my top pilots suffering panic attacks mid-flight."

"I'm sorry, sir." Logan looks down at his hands. "I just… I've been going through some stuff… having nightmares. I guess they're affecting me more than I realised."

"Okay." His CO nods, taking a moment to think. "Okay. This is what we're gonna do: I'm sending you to see Dr. Hayworth and you're gonna work through whatever it is that's causing these panic attacks. I can't have you flying if you're not psychologically fit for the task, so I'm grounding you until I can be sure that you're up to it."

A wave of disappointment floods through Logan, though he fights not to let it show on his face.

He nods stiffly. "Yes, sir."

Cdr. Mason smiles—something that doesn't happen too often—his expression turning sympathetic. "You're a good pilot, Mouth. This isn't a punishment, you got that? I need you fit and healthy to do your job, not just physically, but emotionally too."

"I understand, sir."

The commander nods as he scribbles something on a sheet of paper and hands it to him. "Take this to the med center. Tell them I sent you."

Logan takes it. "Thank you, sir."

As he stands, his CO nods. "Lt. Echolls."

Logan steps out of the office and closes the door behind him. He stops a few yards down the corridor, leaning against the bulkhead as he lets out a sigh.

 _Well, shit._

* * *

 _From: vmars at gmail. com_

 _To: logan. echolls at navy. mil_

 _Date: 8th May 2016 23:55 PST (9th May 2016 10:55 ship time)_

 _Subject: Re: What's going on?_

 _Okay, Logan, you really need to get in contact right now. I can't deal with this not knowing if you're okay, worrying that something's happened to you._

 _My dad, Mac, even Wallace, have been trying to assure me that I'm worrying for nothing and that you're probably just busy, but this is the longest you've gone without contact, with no word of warning either, and it's making me sick with worry._

 _I know I have no right to demand you check in with me, but I just need to know you're safe. I can't concentrate on anything, because I keep thinking that you might be lying dead in a ditch somewhere. Irrational? Maybe, but you tell that to my subconscious._

 _Plus, I miss talking to you,_

 _Veronica_

* * *

It's been a week since his mid-air panic attack, and Logan has been attending daily sessions with Dr. Hayworth since. She's different from his usual therapist back home, not as easy to talk to, but she specialises in PTSD and the psychological issues associated with deployment, and he finds it's actually helping.

He's still grounded, but unlike before with the sinus infection, he's not feeling frustrated or fed up. This time, he's glad for it. It's giving him the opportunity to get his head back in the game, to deal with his issues without having to worry about the stress of flying missions. He's been catching up on his sleep, Dr. Hayworth having prescribed him some mild sleeping tablets to get him back on track, he's hitting the gym as much as he can, and he's been hanging with his squadron more, just relaxing and not letting things get to him.

The one thing he hasn't done though, is contact Veronica. He hasn't even been inside the computer lab in weeks. If he's honest, he's apprehensive about doing so, concerned that talking to or seeing her will somehow trigger the nightmares again. He feels guilty, but then again being a fighter pilot on overseas deployment is not a normal situation to be in, and sometimes you just have to take some time to focus on your own mental wellbeing, even if it means spending less time with the people you care for.

On the afternoon of May 15th the carrier docks into Jebel Ali, Dubai for three days and Logan takes his first steps on dry land in almost four months. He's not in the US, he's not home, but it's such a relief to be off the ship, to have some time away from everything, that it almost feels like he _is_ home. The moment he realizes that his phone actually has service for the first time since January, he excuses himself from the rest of the squadron and finds a secluded spot, her number selected and thumb already hovering over the green button.

It's early morning in Neptune; she might not even be up yet, but he has to try. With shaking fingers, he presses the call button and lifts the phone to his ear. It rings three times, then four, and for a moment, he thinks she's not going to pick up, but then there's a click and her groggy voice comes over the phone.

"'Lo?" She sounds half-asleep.

"Veronica?"

He hears her gasp and then there's a rustling before she says more clearly, "Logan? Oh my God!"

"Yeah, it's me."

"You're okay?" She sounds breathless. "I've been so worried. I haven't heard from you in weeks."

"I'm sorry." His voice breaks, all the emotion he's been keeping at bay for so long spilling out. "I-I didn't mean to worry you."

"I've been emailing but you haven't replied." Her tone verges on accusatory. "I really needed you to let me know you were okay."

"I'm sorry," he says again. "I haven't checked my emails since before—"

"Since before what?" she asks urgently, interrupting him. "Did something happen? You're not hurt, are you?"

"No, no, I'm fine," he assures her. "I've just… been going through some stuff. It's okay now though."

"Oh. Okay," she says, sounding a little calmer. There's a pause before, "Wait, you're calling from your phone?"

"Oh, yeah. I am." He smiles, blinking, as if he's only just remembered that fact. "We've just docked in the UAE—I have three days of shore leave."

"You're off the ship?" He can hear the smile in her voice.

"Yeah. I'm gonna check into a hotel, live the life of luxury for a couple days." He grins, picturing it. "Oh, man, I can finally have a shower lasting more than three minutes. This is gonna be heaven."

"So, uh," Veronica starts coyly after a moment. "Will this hotel room be private?"

"Of course." He scoffs. "I'm not spending my three nights of freedom sharing a room."

"And it'll have internet access?" she continues. "Because, you know, it's the weekend and I'll be home all day…"

He frowns for a second, then it clicks. Of course. A private hotel room, internet access, Skype, and no interruptions… the possibilities are endless.

"I'll make sure of it," he swears. "Don't care how much it costs."

"Good." She sounds smug on the other end. "My laptop will be on… give me a call when you're settled in."

"Of course." He nods, though she can't see him. "And I'm sorry… again… for the radio silence."

"You're okay. That's all that matters."

"Talk to you soon, Veronica."

"I'll be waiting."

* * *

An hour later, he's checked into a large room in a plush, high-rise hotel. Of course, being Dubai, the room costs a bomb, but Logan doesn't give a shit. He's been stuck on that tin can for months. He deserves it. Many of his fellow officers have chosen to stay on the carrier, but he needs to get away from the suffocating, confining space for a while.

He makes sure he can connect to the high-speed WiFi, then grabs a couple things from the minibar and settles on the comfortable king-size bed, marvelling at how soft it is. Oh, he's going to make the most of the next three nights, now that he's no longer confined to a tiny bunk in a room full of guys. He checked out the bathroom just now—it's enormous, complete with a double-headed shower and a hot tub. He's definitely going to be taking long, luxurious Hollywood showers for the next three days.

Perching the laptop on his knees, he signs into Skype. Now that he knows Veronica has been trying to get hold of him, he wishes he'd checked his emails before he left the ship. He can't access his military account from an unsecure network, so he has no way of knowing how many unread messages are sitting in his inbox right now.

He grins when he sees Veronica is already online, and wastes no time in pressing the call button. It only takes her a few seconds to answer and then her face is filling the screen.

 _She looks tired_ , is his first thought, though it shouldn't be a surprise, considering it's only 06:00 hours on Sunday morning in California right now. It takes an extra few seconds to realise that he's actually seeing her in HD, with perfect reception, no pixilation and no time delay. It's a novelty.

"Hi," he says softly, drinking her in.

"Hey, Logan." She smiles widely. "Wow, the picture's so clear."

"The perks of fast internet." He grins. "I'd forgotten how good it was."

"And no delays," she agrees. "Are you sure you have to get back on that ship?"

"Sadly, yes." His gaze roams over her. She's sitting in bed, her hair pulled up in a messy ponytail, and she's wearing his navy t-shirt again. "Just got up, huh?

"Yeah, well _someone_ called me at five a.m.," she says breezily. "Woke me up from this really great dream. I was being ravished by sexy fighter pilots."

"Pilots?" He cocks an eyebrow. "Plural?"

"Well, no, just the one, actually." She grins.

He wiggles his eyebrows. "Do tell."

She doesn't answer right away, instead studies him thoughtfully, her expression sobering.

"Later," she says. "First, you need to tell me what's going on."

"What do you mean?" He feigns ignorance.

She just looks at him and sighs. "Logan, you've been radio silent for three weeks. You sounded upset on the phone earlier. Talk to me."

Logan looks up to the ceiling for a moment. He was hoping she wouldn't make him talk about it, but this is Veronica. That hope was just wishful thinking.

"I didn't mean to shut you out," he starts, trying to figure out how he can explain without giving away any confidential details. "It's just…something happened on a mission and I kinda freaked out."

"Oh, God, Logan, you didn't get hurt?"

"No." He shakes his head. "Nothing like that. It was more… psychological. My CO stepped in, grounded me while I got myself sorted out."

"Wow." She doesn't seem to know what to say. "But you're okay now?"

"I'm getting there." He shrugs. "Seeing the on-board shrink. She's been great. Should be back flying in a few days."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

He sighs. "Yes, and no. I don't want to hide stuff from you—I really didn't mean to leave you in the lurch like that, I just needed some time to get my head sorted—but I'm not sure I can talk about it right now."

He tells himself it's because the information is sensitive, but the truth is, he's kind of scared to open up to her about it.

She looks a little disappointed, though she nods in understanding. "Okay. But I'm here when you're ready."

"Thanks." He smiles.

"So, what are your plans for the next couple of days?" She changes the subject. "How are you going to embrace your new-found freedom?"

He hears the words, but his mind is still stuck on the events of the last couple of weeks. Maybe he should tell her? Dr. Hayworth said he shouldn't be afraid to let her in, even if he can't talk about the specifics.

"I froze during a mission," he blurts out, unable to stop himself.

"What?" Her expression becomes concerned.

"I was about to…uh, complete my mission task… and I just froze," he says. "I couldn't breathe, Veronica. I had a panic attack in the air."

"Oh my God, Logan." Her eyes are wide now. "What happened?"

"I don't know." He shakes his head, gaze fixing on the skyscrapers outside the window. "I'd been having these nightmares. I thought I was handling it, but out there… I just locked up. I couldn't do it. That's never happened to me before."

"Oh, Logan…I'm sorry." He looks back at the screen again. She's studying him carefully, but there's no judgement in her eyes, just concern. "What were the nightmares about?"

He stiffens, instinctively clamming up. He takes a couple of deep breaths, then forces himself to relax, to take Dr. Hayworth's advice.

"They were mostly about you," he admits, watching her eyes widen in surprise. "You kept dying, right in front of me, and it was my fault. I fired the missiles, I was flying the plane, and you died. Every time."

"God, Logan." Her hand comes up to her chest and she leans forward. "Look, I'm fine. See? I'm right here."

"I know. I know you are." He nods. "But I was so scared. I couldn't sleep, couldn't concentrate. All I saw was you…like that." He shudders as one of the horrible images flashes through his mind. "It reminded me of..."

He trails off, unable to continue. Veronica closes her eyes, pressing her lips together, before letting out a heavy sigh.

"I wish I was there with you," she says as her eyes flutter open and she looks at him, expression filled with emotion. "So I could wrap my arms tight around you and show you just how fine, and safe, I am."

"I wish you were here too."

"You could have talked to me, you know. You didn't have to go through that on your own."

"I know," he admits. "Or at least, that's what everyone else was telling me. And I _was_ going to talk to you, in that last email I sent, but then I just… I couldn't do it."

"I knew something was wrong. I could tell," she says. "I got it right after you sent it and I logged on to see if you were online, but I guess I just missed you."

"Yeah…" _Great timing, Logan. She was right there and you went and logged out._

"But we're both here now, alone and uninterrupted."

He smiles, glad for the distraction. "We are."

"You're on a bed, I'm in bed…. whatever shall we do?" There's a suggestive twinkle in her eye and Logan can't help but smile.

"Well," he starts thoughtfully. "I think maybe we should start with you telling me exactly what you would do if you _were_ here with me."

She grins. "Maybe we should."

He returns the grin for a second, before frowning. "Wait, what about your dad?"

"My dad?" She looks confused for a moment, then her expression clears in understanding. "Oh, no, I'm not at the house anymore. I moved into the new apartment last week."

"You did?"

"Yep." She nods, giving an excited smile as she shifts on the bed, lifting the laptop. "My very own place. You wanna see?"

"Of course."

Veronica spends the next few minutes giving him a video tour of her new place. It's small, and it's filled with unpacked boxes, but it looks nice. It suits her, and as she describes how she plans to decorate it, he pictures himself there with her, lounging with her on the couch on lazy weekends, sleeping with her in her bed, and he smiles wistfully, a pang of longing resonating through him, as he watches her talking animatedly.

This fucking deployment can't end fast enough.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

When Logan steps onto the carrier again Wednesday afternoon, he's feeling more relaxed and content than he has since that last night in January before he left on deployment. He spent his shore leave sleeping until late morning, then hanging out his squadron-mates in the afternoon and early evening, eating good food, and enjoying his freedom. The nights were spent holed up in his hotel room, talking with Veronica on Skype until the early hours.

Just being able to spend time with Veronica, uninterrupted, without the constraints of computer slot bookings or a crappy internet connection, has been great. She had to work Monday and Tuesday, so they switched to FaceTime and he spent his nights 'following' her to the office and around Neptune as she went about her day. In a way, that was better than when she was at home alone, because it was real – it gave him a glimpse into her life and a chance to pretend he was there with her.

Once the carrier leaves the port and heads back into the operating area, it's back to 'normal life' again. Logan's still seeing Dr. Hayworth, but by the end of the week, she's cleared him to return to duty.

Logan presents the medical note to Commander Mason and nods eagerly when the CO agrees to un-ground him on the condition that he inform him immediately if he doesn't feel completely 100% comfortable on a mission.

* * *

 _From: logan. echolls at navy. mil_

 _To: vmars at gmail. com_

 _Date: 20th May 2016 06:32 PST (20th May 2016 19:32 ship time)_

 _Subject: Thank you_

 _Hey V,_

 _I read the emails you sent—I need to apologise again for making you worry like that._

 _That wasn't my intention at all… guess I'm not used to having anyone concerned for my safety while I'm overseas, so it didn't really occur to me that you would be worried. Have to say, I'm surprised you didn't start hunting down people and interrogating them for information :P._

 _Anyway, just wanted to say thank you, for… well, you know ;P. Best few days I've had in months. Of course, having 3 days of freedom has only made me even more impatient for this tour to end._

 _Four months down… 60 days to go._

 _Good news: I was cleared to fly again today, so come Monday I'll be suiting up once more and climbing back into my baby (just read that back… kinky!)._

 _I guess this is a good time to get back to those questions – I believe I have a couple to catch up on. You know, we could have finished these off the other day. Guess we were otherwise occupied ;)._

 _I said I would get back to you about number 9:_

 _9) What's the longest you've gone without sleep (and why)?_

 _I'm sorry you went through all that at Stanford, but I'm glad you were able to get help._

 _I put off answering this before not just because I was going through shit, but also because it brings back some pretty crap memories for me. I actually don't know exactly how long I've gone without sleep. I know it was a while, probably a couple of days, but I was out of my head at the time, so I have only vague, fuzzy memories of it._

 _It would have been sometime in the summer of 2008. Life was a constant party and I was fucked out of my mind most of the time—barely knew night from day, let alone anything else. I don't remember what I'd taken, but I'm pretty sure I didn't make it to a bed for at least 2 nights. When I finally sobered up/came down, I was sprawled across some woman's sofa—apparently I'd wandered into her house instead of Dick's. Scared the shit out of her, too—I was lucky she didn't call the cops. It's all in the past now, and I've sorted myself out, but it wasn't a good time in my life, V._

 _But on to a more positive note:_

 _11)_ _What is your favourite memory?_

 _You know, that Homecoming holds pretty special memories for me too. I agree though, we wouldn't be the people we are today, or where we are in our lives now, if we could go back and change what happened._

 _My favourite memory is that night the summer after high school…you know the one I mean. Despite what you're thinking, it wasn't just about sex. What made that night special was that it was the first time I ever felt truly at peace with myself. You know I had major issues back then (still do, but I'm working on them), but that night, you saw me; you saw through all the bullshit and the snark, and you accepted me for exactly who I am. No one had ever done that before—mainly because I never let them see the real me—but I let down the walls, laid everything out to you for the first time, and you just accepted it without judgement. It was the best night of my life._

 _I was so in love with you back then, Veronica. I was in deep. Too deep. I know you didn't feel the same way—I knew it then too, but I've made peace with it now. It took a long time, and a lot of therapy, to realise how unhealthy our relationship was that year, for both of us. It was so one-sided and I was clinging to it like a lifeline because I finally had you back and I couldn't stand the thought of losing you again. Problem was, I clung so hard that I ended up pushing you away._

 _Sorry, I let that get too deep as well (must be all those warm fuzzies from talking to you for 3 days straight)… I'll stop now and move to something more lighthearted._

 _12)_ _What's your TV guilty pleasure?_

 _Well, 6 months out at sea is a fucking long time, so there's plenty of time for binge-watching. Last tour I made my way through 3 seasons of Game of Thrones, all of Breaking Bad and got started on The Walking Dead._

 _This tour, it's all about Archer. Great show. You know, the relationship between Lana and Archer kind of reminds me of us… you know, with all the bickering :P._

 _Looks like there's a free Skype slot at 05:00 Thursday morning here, which will be 6 pm your time Wednesday. Could you make that? I'll pencil it in just in case._

 _Miss talking to you,_

 _Logan_

* * *

 _From: vmars at gmail. com_

 _To: logan. echolls at navy. mil_

 _Date: 20th May 2016 20:43 PST (21st May 2016 07:43 ship time)_

 _Subject: Re: Thank you_

 _Hey you,_

 _Of course I was worried about you—did you really believe I wouldn't be? And you know, I wasn't the only one—after a couple of weeks, even my dad started getting concerned that I hadn't heard from you. I'll be honest, I was very tempted to start investigating, but uh… I kind of misplaced the number you gave me for Chaos' wife, and Dick was no help at all, and well, since I'm not a relative, it's not like the Navy would give me any information anyway… so I didn't really have anything to work with—legally anyway (and I am trying to keep things legal these days)._

 _By the way, it was my pleasure. Loved being able to talk to you whenever I liked for those 3 days – it certainly brightened up my day. I know what you mean—the waiting is almost worse now._

 _60 days from today means you get back July 19th right? It is now marked on my calendar._

 _Glad you're feeling better and are cleared to fly… though you know my feelings on you flying, so I'm just gonna leave it there._

 _Yeah, I don't think our questions game was on either of our minds the other day ;)._

 _I'm sorry, I didn't mean for the sleep one to bring back bad memories. I hate to think of you going through that while I was at Stanford, living my life and being completely oblivious to your pain._

 _I have to say, your favourite memory is one of mine too ;). However, I feel I need to set some things straight here:_

 _I_ did _love you back then, Logan. So much._

 _The problem wasn't that I didn't love you, or that your feelings were stronger than mine (I don't think they were). It was that I didn't know how to show it, or how to deal with what I was feeling, or with what you were obviously feeling for me. I was so focused on pretending our lives were normal, that we were a normal couple, and that I wasn't affected by what happened with Cassidy that I didn't think about how it was affecting you. Instead of including you as an equal partner, I kept up my walls, kept you out of my innermost thoughts and feelings, and I was so scared of getting hurt again that I wouldn't let myself fully trust you. I know now that it was completely the wrong thing to do and I wish I'd realised that sooner._

 _You know what I did, that day you broke up with me, before the whole Mercer thing went down? I told everyone I was fine and I went about my day. I told Mac I was fine; I told Wallace I was fine. That evening, my dad offered to stay home instead of following a lead in Sacramento, and I told_ him _I was fine too. So he left...and I broke down in the shower. I'm talking full-on, body-wracking sobs. I couldn't stop. I got into bed and I cried some more. Then I got up in the morning and I cried in the shower again._

 _You have to know that I am so sorry for making you feel like you didn't measure up to my standards, for making it seem like I didn't need you. Because I did. I really, really did. I was just too fucking-ass stubborn to admit it. I know I made a lot of mistakes that year, but Logan, please don't ever doubt that I loved you._

 _So, yeah..._

 _12)_ _What's your TV guilty pleasure?_

 _Yeah, so I haven't seen Archer—no cable for poor, law student Veronica—but you have me intrigued about these Archer and Lana characters._

 _Honestly, I don't watch a whole lot of TV these days—don't get much time to sit down and binge-watch anything, though Mac has been trying to get me into Orange is the New Black lately._

 _I'm going to follow your light-hearted question with a similar one…_

 _13) What's your favourite holiday?_

 _Mine has always been Christmas. When I was a kid, we had all these fun traditions: hiding our presents around the house and all sitting down together to watch The Year Without a Santa Claus_. _After my mom left,_ _it was never quite the same, but Dad tried so hard to make the day special. It was our father-daughter bonding time; no interruptions, just us. In recent years, we've become a bit lax with the celebrations, but we always make sure we spend the holiday together._

 _So, those are my answers for today :)._

 _I should be able to make 6 pm Wednesday for Skype. Talk to you then._

 _As always, be safe,_

 _Veronica_

* * *

 _From: logan. echolls at navy. mil_

 _To: vmars at gmail. com_

 _Date: 23rd May 2016 19:14 PST (24th May 2016 06:14 ship time)_

 _Subject: Re: Thank you_

 _Hi V,_

 _Just a (hopefully) quick, question-answering reply for now as I'm scheduled to fly later this morning:_

 _13) What's your favourite holiday?_

 _I never really had any favourite holidays growing up. All the major ones: Easter, Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, were just excuses for my parents to throw some elaborate party full of Hollywood-types. They were so fucking fake it was unbelievable. I guess I enjoyed them when I was a kid because I was allowed to stay up late and eat candy, and Aaron was on his best behavior, but once I got old enough to see through the fake crap, I didn't find them so enjoyable. I mostly just got drunk enough that I would be numb to the inevitable fall-out from my 'unacceptable' behaviour._

 _There is one holiday that is special to me though. Remember that summer between 7th and 8th grades, when the four of us hung out all the time? Lilly insisted that we celebrate the 4th of July together and we spent the day on the beach, surfing, swimming, fucking around. She snuck that champagne out of her parents' house and we got drunk and made s'mores around the campfire and watched the fireworks._

 _The three of you were my family, you know that? At least, that's what it felt like to me. My own family was a joke, showing the world a shiny, false exterior to cover up our dirty secrets. We made it a tradition to spend the day together: you, me, Lilly, Duncan—until it all fell apart, of course—and the 4th of July has held fond memories for me ever since._

 _Shit, I'm turning into a sap. Shh, don't tell anyone._

 _Well, as they say, start as you mean to go on… another sap-filled question coming up. Okay, I'll be honest, I'm only asking this because I overheard a discussion in the rec room yesterday and I realised we've never actually talked about the subject. So, here goes:_

 _14) Who was your first kiss?_

 _Mine's kind of embarrassing. I was 10 and my parents were hosting this big, elaborate after-party for my dad's latest movie. This girl came up to me—she was older than me, maybe 12—and asked if I wanted to kiss her. She was cute, I said yes, and the next thing I knew, she'd flung her arms around my neck and was trying to suck my face off. I didn't know what the fuck to do, so I just stood there, stock-still, wondering how anyone could enjoy the slobber-fest I was being forced to endure. Not exactly the romantic experience dreams are made of, huh?_

 _Of course I got a lot more practice after that, learned how it was supposed to feel… how to make it feel good… and you know the rest ;)._

 _Sorry, gotta go – briefing in a few minutes and I haven't eaten breakfast yet._

 _Talk soon,_

 _L_

* * *

Thursday morning rolls around and as Logan sits in front of one of the PCs in the more secluded area reserved for Skype calls, he's feeling a little concerned about the fact that Veronica hasn't replied to his last email yet. Was it too personal? Maybe she had a terrible first kiss experience and doesn't want to talk about it?

His Skype dings with an incoming call and he smiles when he sees Veronica's profile photo flash up on the screen. He accepts the call without hesitation.

"Hey." He smiles when she comes into view.

She's on the sofa in her new apartment—he can see the kitchen counter behind her—dressed in an oversized Columbia Law sweater, her loosely-braided hair draped over one shoulder. She looks great.

"Hi." Her face lights up when she sees him, then falls into a frown, her bottom lip pushing out when she realises they no longer have the luxury of the high-speed connection. "Have I told you lately how much I hate the US military and their crappy technology?"

Logan smirks. "I seem to recall a few choice words last week."

"Yeah, well it sucks."

"Preaching to the choir here." He's in complete agreement. "So, how're things? Busy?"

"Yeah, they're okay." Her eyes narrow then and she eyes him suspiciously. "Why are you really asking?"

"No reason." He gives a nonchalant shrug. "Just haven't heard from you in a couple days."

"Oh." She nods, though her lips twitch like she's trying to hide a smile. "I get it. You're wondering why I haven't replied to your email yet."

"No," he says, a little too quickly. "It's just… well, usually I'm the one who takes a few days to reply, not you."

"Hmm." She doesn't seem to believe his protest. "So, you haven't been sitting there thinking you put your foot in it with question 14?"

His mouth falls open and he feels his face flush. "No. That's not—"

 _Yeah, right. That's exactly what you were thinking, Echolls._

Her expression softens then. "Look, the only reason I didn't reply is because I didn't want to answer by email, okay? I wanted to wait 'til I talked to you."

"Oh." He straightens, on the alert. "Oh, okay…"

If she wants to talk about it in person, does that mean he's not going to like the answer? Did something else happen that she never told him about? _Shit, I fucking hope not. She doesn't deserve that._

"Oh, stop looking so worried," she berates playfully, waving a dismissive hand.

"So, put me out of my misery then."

"Fine." She hesitates though, watching him warily.

"Oh, geez, it was bad, wasn't it? I've brought back painful memories of first kisses gone wrong."

"It didn't go wrong, per se," she says, gaze avoiding the screen as she fiddles with her hands. "It's just, um… my first kiss was, uh, you."

"What? That can't…" Logan frowns in confusion, calculating the dates in his mind. _No way I was before Duncan._ "I mean, you and Duncan…"

Veronica's lips twitch as she raises her eyebrows. "Do you remember that Christmas party we went to in freshman year, when you got wasted on that punch? Lilly made us play Spin the Bottle. When it was my turn, it landed on you."

 _Oh, fuck_. Logan's eyes widen in realization as a long-forgotten memory comes flooding back. "Shit, that was your first kiss?"

She nods, looking sheepishly at him.

"God, Veronica, I'm so sorry." He feels mortified; he barely even remembers doing it. What a crappy first kiss experience. "Shit, I was so drunk, I didn't even know what I was doing."

"Hey, it's okay." She smiles reassuringly. "It wasn't the most coordinated effort, but it wasn't that bad." She shrugs. "Not that I had anything to compare it to though."

He blanches. _Great, you fucked that one up, Echolls._ "Still, that's not exactly a first kiss you want to remember."

She shrugs. "At least it was with you and not some random guy I didn't even know."

"But it should have been with someone you actually liked."

"Hey, I liked you," she protests playfully.

"You know what I mean," he says, giving her a look. "Why didn't you ever say anything? I always assumed Duncan was the first one."

She shrugs, looking awkward as her gaze drifts toward something off-screen. "You didn't seem to remember it the next morning… in fact, if I recall, you spent most of the day puking your guts out in the bathroom."

Logan grimaces. _Oh this just keeps getting better and better._

"Besides, you and Lilly were together then and I didn't see the point in stirring the pot."

He raises an eyebrow. "Uh, you know Lilly was there, right? The whole stupid game was her idea."

"I know." She nods. "But I figured, _'what happens at the party, stays at the party'_ and all that." She shrugs. "Then later, when we were together, it didn't seem worth mentioning, with everything else we were dealing with."

"Wow." Logan sits back in his seat, trying to process his thoughts. "Hey, you ever think about what might have happened if you had told me?"

"No. Not really." She shakes her head, then frowns. "Why, _would_ something have happened? Would it have changed anything?"

"I don't know." Logan shrugs. "Maybe not. Lilly and I were… she kind of commanded all of my attention, you know?"

She smiles sadly. "Yeah. I know."

She doesn't say anything more and Logan takes the opportunity to move the subject away from his volatile relationship with Lilly.

"Hey, look, about what you said in your last email..."

"Yeah?" She looks wary.

He smiles. "Thank you."

She blinks. "Huh?"

"For telling me, you know, how you felt back then."

He hadn't been expecting her to address her feelings like that, but reading it had been a relief. He'd spent years doubting whether she ever really loved him back in high school and college—she'd never told him, not voluntarily—but now she's admitted she really did, it's healed something inside him he hadn't even realised needed healing.

Veronica's shaking her head, her eyes filled with emotion. "I'm so sorry, Logan. I was a crappy girlfriend to you. All you were trying to do was look out for me, keep me safe, and I turned around and shoved it right back in your face."

"Hey," he says quickly, glad he's managed to secure one of the private Skype booths this morning and doesn't have to worry about other people overhearing. "It's okay. It's in the past. Like I said before: bygones."

"Logan…"

He holds up a hand. "Seriously, Veronica. We're older and wiser now. Let's not dwell on the past. We have a chance to do things right this time."

She looks at him consideringly for a moment, before nodding reluctantly. "Yeah. Yeah, we do."

* * *

 _From: vmars at gmail. com_

 _To: logan. echolls at navy. mil_

 _Date: 26th May 2016 07:25 PST (26th May 2016 18:25 ship time)_

 _Subject: Re: Thank you_

 _Hey,_

 _So, I realised that while I answered 14) last night, I forgot to add in a new one of my own. Since we're in share mode lately, how's this one for you:_

 _15) Craziest place you've had sex?_

 _Okay, you know me, I'm not exactly Miss Adventurous in that area (or at least I never used to be ;)), and I'm sure you'll be pleased to hear that Piz was even less risqué in bed than me. As a result, I don't really have any crazy stories from the last few years._

 _So, here it is: That time on your parents' yacht right before we started college. You know what I'm talking about._

 _I would expand further, but I'm late for work._

 _Just to let you know, I won't be around this weekend. Wallace, Mac and I are taking a last-minute trip up to Palo Alto for the holiday weekend. We're gonna revisit all my old haunts, hopefully introduce them to some of my Stanford friends who are still in the area._

 _Remind me to take you up there sometime when you get back. I'd love to show you around._

 _Veronica_

Logan reads through Veronica's email three times before he clicks the reply button. While he's relieved she's opening up more now, that she seems comfortable enough to do so, he's worried she might not want to know some of his answers. Sure, he could be selective in how he replies, but what would be the point? If they want to make this relationship work, they're going to have to be honest with each other.

 _From: logan. echolls at navy. mil_

 _To: vmars at gmail. com_

 _Date: 27th May 2016 01:02 PST (27th May 2016 12:02 ship time)_

 _Subject: Re: Thank you_

 _Hey Veronica,_

 _No worries, have fun at Stanford._

 _I remember that time on the yacht very well… naked under the stars, boat rocking beneath us… that little noise you made when you…uh, yeah, okay, gonna stop right there or I'm gonna embarrass myself._

 _15) Craziest place you've had sex?_

 _Are you sure you want to know the answer to that? I'm not sure you're gonna like it._

 _If not, then just skip ahead one paragraph now._

 _During OCS, we got liberty at the weekends – we had up to 28 hours of free time to do with what we liked, as long as we didn't get into trouble or venture more than 100 miles from the base. We made it up in Boston a couple times and one weekend we met some girls, ended up in Fenway Park for a Red Sox vs. Blue Jays game. By the end of the night, I was holed up in the abandoned press room with one of said girls. Her name was Suzie and she was a student at Boston U. Didn't see her again after that—guess she just wanted to tick banging a navy pilot off her bucket list (not that I even was one yet). Classy, huh?_

 _I hope that wasn't an overshare. If it was, I'm sorry._

 _Hopefully this question will make up for it:_

 _16) If you could do anything you wanted right now, what would it be?_

 _I would be curled up with you, in your new apartment. We'd have the whole day to ourselves. And my goal would be to make it the best day of your life. I would show you exactly how much you mean to me, how happy I am to have you in my life again, how grateful I that you answered your phone that day and came back to Neptune. I would ravish you until you were begging for mercy, make you come more times than you thought possible, then I would sink into you, lose myself in you until we couldn't think straight, until we were both so satisfied we were unable to move._

 _Uh, yeah… I'm gonna have to go now, or I'm going to end up in a very embarrassing position right here in the computer lab._

 _54 days to go…_

 _L_

* * *

Monday is Memorial day, which means a few hours off from operations and a special buffet lunch and cake-cutting ceremony in the mess halls. As he told Veronica last week, Logan's never been big on celebrating holidays, but since joining the service, some of them have come to mean much more than just an excuse to party. Memorial Day in particular is especially important, and poignant, when you're in the military: a remembrance day for all those who have died while in service.

While Logan doesn't personally know anyone who has lost their life fighting for their country, he has friends who do, and he also has friends who have come close, so he more than understands the importance. He still remembers his grandfather telling him stories from his time in Vietnam, of the brave officers on his squadron who gave their lives for their country. So, yeah, he's well aware of the significance of this day.

"Mouth!" A hand clamps down on Logan's shoulder as he loads his plate up with cold cuts. He looks up to find Bilbo grinning at him, gripping a plate loaded with food.

"Hey, dude." He gives a short bob of his head. "How's it goin'?"

"Eh, not bad, not bad." His friend nods. "Nice spread, huh?"

"They sure know how to treat us right."

Logan tilts his head toward an open space across the room and Bilbo follows him over.

"So, you doing okay, man?" Bilbo asks, tone serious now. "You seem better."

He nods. "Yeah, yeah, I am… Well," he amends, "Not completely, but I've worked through a lot of it."

"You wanna talk about it?"

"Not really." He makes a face. It was hard enough telling Veronica, let alone his squadron-mates.

"Hey, I get it," says Bilbo. "But just know, you're not the only one. It happens to all of us at one time or another."

Logan snorts a self-depreciating chuckle. "Yeah? Ever happened to you?"

"Once," Bilbo admits. "My first tour."

"Shit." Logan straightens, sobering as he turns to look at his friend. "Seriously?"

"There was an accident on the carrier," he says with a nod. "I was up on the flight deck, just landed, and another jet was coming in. He caught the wire no problem, but it snapped and sent the jet diving straight into the ocean. Pilot ejected and was fine, but the wire whipped back across the deck, injured several of the ground crew. It freaked everyone the fuck out, myself included."

"Geez." Logan blows out a soft whistle.

"We were grounded while they investigated the cause, which turned out to be a mechanical failure with the arresting engine." Bilbo shakes his head, before sliding a potato chip into his mouth and chewing slowly. "I was fine until I the next time I had to land—I completely freaked out; was convinced the same thing was going to happen to me. That time, I was flying solo. Had to be talked down by the ground crew. I was fucking terrified—longest day of my life."

"Shit, that's horrible," is all Logan can think to say.

"Yeah, tell me about it," agrees his squadron-mate. "Took me a long time to get over it. And once I did, I put everything I had into nailing the perfect landing, every time."

Logan gives a small chuckle, looking down at his plate with a wry grin. _Well, shit._

"What?" Bilbo's mouth curls into a slightly bemused half-smile.

"Man, all this time, I just thought you were the smug bastard who could do no wrong when landing a jet." He claps him on the back. "You have no idea how much it pisses me off that you always catch the wire first time."

"Well, careful what you wish for, dude." Bilbo arches an eyebrow. "There's a reason I make sure there's no room for mistakes."

"Yeah, I get that now." Logan nods. "Man, I'm sorry."

"It's in the past," Bilbo says dismissively. "It wasn't pleasant to witness, but I think it's made me a better pilot, you know? More vigilant, more careful."

"Yeah."

"But, hey, what doesn't kill you makes you stronger, right?"

 _Oh, I can definitely relate to that._

* * *

 _From: vmars at gmail. com_

 _To: logan. echolls at navy. mil_

 _Date: 31st May 2016 19:42 PST (1st June 2016 06:42 ship time)_

 _Subject: Re: Thank you_

 _Yeah, you were right, I didn't want to know the answer to that… in hindsight, it probably wasn't the wisest question to ask._

 _However, as much as I hate the idea of you getting it on—anywhere—with anyone else, I can't judge you for it. We were apart for 9 years and neither of us was celibate in that time… plus I'm the one who left in the first place, so I don't really have a leg –or a high horse—to stand on. I know all that. Of course, that doesn't stop the jealous part of me from rearing its head when I think of you with other people._

 _I do approve of your 'making-up for it' question though… I totally want you to do all of that… everything you just said. And more. Yes, sir._

 _16) If you could do anything you wanted right now, what would it be?_

 _I would wrap my arms around you and never let go. No, wait, that could get awkward very fast, and also very much in the way of everyday life, particularly when working undercover._

 _Hmm, let's see… ooh, I know:_

 _If I could do anything I wanted right now, I would… have you make me bacon and pancakes in bed, then I would get you to wash my back in the shower. After that, you would drive me to work, massage my feet while I worked on cases, then get take-out from Mama Leone's followed by my favourite ice cream sundae from Amy's. In the afternoon, you would drive me everywhere I needed to go in your shiny BMW and then take me out to dinner at the finest restaurant in town, buying me the most expensive things on the menu._

 _Then, when we got home, to show my gratitude for all you'd done for me that day, I would spend all night pleasuring you with my body until you were crying out for mercy._

 _How's that? Yeah, okay, I'm just joking… but that's only because what I wanted to say (and what I originally started to type) was extremely NSFW and I just couldn't bring myself to send it :P._

 _Yeah, so… I think we need to move away from sex-related questions for a while._

 _How's this for random:_

 _17)_ _What musical instrument would you play if you could?_

 _Other than singing, I'm not particularly musically inclined. The closest I got to learning a musical instrument when I was younger was the recorder… they made us take lessons in elementary school, though I wasn't too good at it :P._

 _Hmm, if I could learn to play one now… well, I did once think that the electric guitar would be cool to play, though that may have had something to do with my dad's obsession with Blue Oyster Cult. But anyway… yeah, I think I'll go with that._

 _How about you?_

 _Veronica_


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note:** Since the timeline in the books is so messed up (Logan having been gone 2.5 months in March, then somehow by July, he's completed 6 months of deployment AND has managed to be home for 2 months already), I've adjusted the timeline slightly so that it actually makes sense.

So, for the purpose of this story, the book happens in 2016 (not 2014), Logan's 6 months are up in July, then the events of MKAT take place in September, 2 months after he gets home.

* * *

 **Chapter Seven**

 _From: logan. echolls at navy. mil_

 _To: vmars at gmail. com_

 _Date: 2nd June 2016 09:01 PST (2nd June 2016 20:01 ship time)_

 _Subject: Re: Thank you_

 _Hey V,_

 _Hope you guys had a good time at Stanford. I'd love to go up with you sometime—see what life was like for you there._

 _We celebrated Memorial Day on the carrier with a memorial ceremony, followed by a buffet lunch and cake-cutting in the mess halls. All very civilized._

 _Sorry again if 15) was TMI—I didn't intend to upset you or make you jealous. It happened. That's about the extent of it. And for the record, I feel the same way when I think about you with other people too (particularly one who will remain nameless)._

 _I'm sure we can arrange something for when I get back…and I will do all of that and more. I promise._

 _I know you were joking, but just know I would happily do all of that for you if it meant I could spend the entire night wrapped around you. I'm extremely curious as to what your original answer would have been though ;)._

 _17)_ _What musical instrument would you play if you could?_

 _When I was a kid, I learned how to play the piano. It was one of those things my mom made me do, partly because she wanted me to be 'worldly and sophisticated' and partly because she was trying to maintain the image of a perfect family. I took about 3 years of lessons, from age 8 to 11, but then I started discovering girls and soon it wasn't cool to be musically-inclined, so I refused to play anymore. It didn't go down well with Aaron, I can tell you._

 _If I could play anything now… you know, I think I would go back and relearn the piano. I was actually getting pretty good—when I tried, anyway—but I stopped playing before I really got to love it._

 _Okay, question 18…_

 _18) What's the #1 most played track on your iPod?_

 _Normally, it would be something by Green Day or Chili Peppers, but lately my most played track has been one in particular… you might know it: something about being for when I'm horny?_

 _Yeah, yeah, roll your eyes, but I'm a guy, I'm stuck out here in the middle of nowhere with a bunch of other guys, and I miss you. I don't get much time to myself here, but when I do, I like to make the most of it ;)._

 _L_

 _P.S. The Skype bookings are pretty full for the next week or so, but I managed to get a slot next Friday morning – about 5 pm your time. Will that work?_

* * *

 _From: vmars at gmail. com_

 _To: logan. echolls at navy. mil_

 _Date: 3rd June 2016 12:41 PST (3rd June 2016 23:41 ship time)_

 _Subject: Re: Thank you_

 _Yes, a good time was had by all at Stanford. Wallace and Mac were suitably impressed by the campus (or at least they pretended to be) and I managed to catch up with a few old friends, which was great.._

 _Sorry, I'm afraid you're going to have to wait until you get home to find out what I was originally going to write ;)._

 _I didn't know you could play the piano. You never went near the grand at your parents' house… though I'm wondering now if maybe there was a reason for that. I'd love to hear you play sometime, that is if you still remember how._

 _Aww, Lt. Echolls, you make me blush… actually you really do, since now I'm picturing you listening to my voice on that track while you, uh… spend time with yourself ;P._

 _18) What's the #1 most played track on your iPod?_

 _Um, is it bad that I don't even own an iPod right now? Mine was so old that it finally lay down and died a few months ago, and I haven't had the time (or money) to get a new one yet._

 _But if I had one, right now I would have The Eagles' Take It Easy on repeat. No particular reason why, I just like it right now :P. Sometimes I take your car out (just to keep it running, of course), put the top down and cruise down the PCH with that song blasting. It's kind of freeing and I can forget all the everyday life crap for a while._

 _Right let's see: number 19…_

 _19) I know you're big on the inspirational quotes… so, what's your favourite quote? The one that means the most to you?_

 _Personally, I've never really been one for taking life advice from inspirational messages, but I've had some pretty crappy things happen over the years. I've survived some crazy stuff and sometimes it was hard for me to keep going. Something my dad said to me once helped me get through some of the toughest times:_

You were given this life because you are strong enough to live it.

 _I don't know where it comes from, but I like to think the person who came up with it was very wise._

 _Of course, I'm also partial to this one:_

Life's a bitch until you die – Veronica Mars, Neptune High, 2004

 _Take care… still miss you,_

 _Veronica_

 _P.S. 5 pm next Friday for Skype is good for me_

* * *

June starts off the same as any month on the calendar when you're on an aircraft carrier: with no acknowledgement whatsoever. It's not until the second week of the month that Logan realises what moving into June means: there are only six weeks left of the deployment.

Six weeks until he can see Veronica again.

Two more weeks of operational missions, then the carrier will start its eastward journey back across the Indian Ocean towards the United States. Unfortunately, it's around this point in a tour that the infamous 'slump' hits again. You're so close to the end you can almost taste the freedom, but you still have to get through those last few weeks first, and that can be a major slog.

Mess hall buzzing around him, Logan looks down at his dinner plate, making a face as he slides the food around it. It's not that the chicken and potatoes aren't good, it's just, well, he's been craving lasagne for weeks and it hasn't been served once. He could _really_ eat a good lasagne about now.

 _What I wouldn't give for Mama Leone's right now._

"Hey, man." Logan looks up to see Chaos sliding into the seat opposite him, two parcels in his hands. "Good work earlier."

"You too," he responds in kind. They flew an early mission this morning, one that thankfully went as smoothly as they could have hoped for and didn't trigger any panic attacks or anything of the sort.

"Here." Chaos hands one of the parcels to him. "This arrived for you."

Logan drops the fork, a wide grin spreading across his face as he takes the package, noting Veronica's swirly handwriting on the front. "Sweet. Thanks, dude."

He looks up from the address label to find Chaos watching him with an amused smile. "What?"

His friend grins, giving a shake of his head. "Still getting used to this love-struck side of you, Mouth."

"Oh, fuck off." Logan retorts, narrowing his eyes. "You're one to talk. I haven't forgotten all the pining when you and Sarah got together." He grins, affecting a high-pitched tone. " _I miss her so much, Mouth._ _How am I going to survive without her? This deployment is never gonna end._ "

"Fuck you, dude." Chaos slugs him on the arm. "I wasn't that bad."

Logan chuckles. "Oh, I beg to differ… which means you can't judge me."

"Yeah, but you're _Logan Echolls_ , you don't get hung up on girls." Chaos grins.

 _Don't be so sure._ Logan gives a soft snort, memories of barely leaving the Neptune Grand for weeks—not showering, not eating, just moping—flashing through his mind.

"Dude, what did I say about not reading the crap they write about me in the gossip mags?" he returns, then nods toward the second package in a bid to change the subject. "So, what did Sarah send you this time?"

"Oh, this isn't mine," Chaos says. "It's for Bilbo. Looks like a Father's Day gift,"

He lifts it up to show the neat writing on the back, which states not to open it until June 19th.

"Wow, Father's Day. I'd forgotten all about it."

"Yeah." Chaos nods, understanding in his eyes.

Ah, yes. Father's Day. The dreaded holiday. Even when Aaron was still alive, it was not a joyous affair in the Echolls household, no matter how much his father tried to pretend it was. The only upside of the holiday was the fact that Aaron made sure never to lay a hand on his son on Father's Day.

"You know," starts Chaos, sounding hesitant, "before I left, Sarah and I started talking about having kids."

"Yeah?" Logan curses his inability to come up with an intelligent response whenever the subject of marriage, families or kids comes up in conversation.

His friend nods. "Yeah. We've been putting it off, because of—" he gestures around them "—all this. But I've still got a few deployment-filled years left, and well, she's not getting any younger."

"God, yeah." He blinks. "Right."

"So, we were talking last night, and… uh, we've decided to try when I get home." Chaos gives a small smile, though he looks like he's trying to conceal a grin.

"Dude, that's great!" Logan smiles widely, clapping a hand on his friend's shoulder. He chuckles when Chaos just shrugs bashfully. "You know, this is a big thing, you don't have to pretend it's not, for my sake."

At that, Chaos grins, eyes crinkling and face lighting up. "Yeah. Yeah, I know. And I'm not; I'm just… I don't know how to feel right now. Like, I'm excited and shit-scared at the same time."

"Understandable." Logan nods. Not that he really knows—he has no experience with this. His lips curl up in a wicked grin. "But think how much fun you'll have trying."

"There is that." Chaos grins again, bobbing his eyebrows.

"Geez, you're gonna be a _dad_ ," says Logan then. "That's like… grown-up shit."

"Tell me about it, man," Chaos replies. "I don't know shit about babies."

Logan shakes his head. "You'll do great, man."

"Yeah? What the fuck do you know about kids?"

"Well, uh…"

"Yeah, thought so." Chaos gives him a smug smirk, before placing his package down on the tables and sliding out of the chair. "I need food. Watch that a sec?"

"Sure." Logan nods, watching him leave.

 _Geez, what is it with everyone having kids lately?_

Chaos and Sarah are gonna try, Hughes just became a father a few weeks ago, Bilbo has a toddler, Cosmo's got two. All of them are married, and here he is: just Logan Echolls, with no real family to speak of—well, there's Trina, but he hasn't spoken to her in years—and no current plans for any of the above. And of course, there's Veronica, but she's only been back in his life for a few months—right now, he doesn't even know what will happen when he gets home, let alone in the future.

"So," Chaos says as he slides back into his seat a few moments later, plate of food in hand. "You think you'll ever have kids?"

 _Shit_ , thinks Logan, slightly panicked. _Thanks, man. Put me on the spot, why don't you?_

"Uh…" He shrugs, looking down at his plate. "I dunno. Probably not."

"Why not?"

Logan looks up to find Chaos watching him curiously. He exhales heavily. "Just don't think it's for me."

"Really?" Chaos seems surprised. "I think you'd be a good father."

Logan snorts. "Yeah, right."

"Seriously," says Chaos. "Last Families Day up at Lemoore. You were great with those kids, giving them tours around the jets, telling them about flying."

"Showing a few kids around an aircraft hangar isn't exactly the same as raising one." Logan raises an eyebrow. "I just don't think I'm cut out for fatherhood."

Chaos studies him thoughtfully, a slight frown on his face. Logan fidgets under his scrutiny.

"Dude, what?"

"You aren't your father, you know."

 _Shit_.

"I don't know what you're talking about." He breaks eye contact, shoving a forkful of potatoes into his mouth.

"You're nothing like him, Mouth," Chaos says seriously. "You could never hurt _anyone_ like that, let alone your own child."

"Wouldn't be so sure of that."

"Seriously?" Chaos's tone is disbelieving. "Come on, dude, I've known you, what, five years? Sure, you got a tendency to run your mouth and you've been known to get into the occasional bar fight, but from what I can tell, you're insanely protective of the people you love. You'd never lay a hand on your family."

He feels a strange knot twisting in his stomach at that. Aaron spent Logan's formative years convincing him he was no good, that he was just like him, that his special form of punishment was the only suitable one. Though he knows it isn't, it's difficult for him to believe that the same violence isn't in his genes, lurking beneath the surface, just waiting to be unleashed.

He shrugs it off, saying uncomfortably, "Doesn't matter anyway, Veronica'll never go for it."

"She doesn't want kids?"

Logan shakes his head. "Back in high school and college, she always said the two things she'd never do were get married and have kids."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah, well, can't blame her." He shrugs. "She had a crappy time of it growing up too. She's pretty jaded when it comes to the whole marriage and kids thing."

"Yeah, but it's been, what, a decade since then?" Chaos shrugs. "You're adults now. Maybe she's changed her mind."

"Yeah, maybe." He's not convinced. He knows Veronica, knows how she thinks. He can't see her wanting that life.

* * *

"So, I have no idea what to get my dad for Father's Day," complains Veronica on Skype two mornings later. She's just got home from the office and is lounging on her bed, laptop balanced on her knees and a tub of Ben and Jerrys in hand. "It's only nine days away and I don't have a clue. Any suggestions?"

"Well, you know I don't have much experience in the art of Father's Day gift-giving," he says. "Uh… what does he like?"

"Baseball," she says immediately. "He loves the Padres. Oh, wait, I think there's a Father's Day game next weekend. Maybe I could get tickets for that…"

An idea starts to form in Logan's head, but before he can voice it, she laughs, a warm chuckle that makes him grin.

"Hey," she says, digging into the ice cream, "you remember that poker game at your parents' Christmas party Junior year?"

"Yeah…" _Where's she going with this?_

She grins, popping a spoonful of Phish Food into her mouth, licking the back of the spoon as she pulls it back out. Logan's eyes follow the movement hungrily.

"You know what I was gonna do with the money I won?" There's a twinkle in her eye and Logan laughs.

"Oh, confident, were we?"

She just purses her lips, narrowing her eyes at him for a moment, before smiling, waving the spoon in the air as she speaks. "For Christmas, I was going to send my dad to a week-long Padres camp at their first training ground. I would have won too, if… well, you know…"

"Shit hadn't gone down," he finishes. _Good ol' Dad, causing a scandal and getting himself stabbed._

"Yeah." She nods. "Not the best ending to a Christmas party."

They're both silent for a moment and Logan takes the opportunity to voice his earlier idea.

"Look, don't buy those Padres tickets yet, okay? One of the guys on board, his brother works at the stadium—I might be able to pull some strings."

"Really?" Veronica blinks, before giving an indulgent smile. "What kind of strings?"

"Oh, I dunno…" Logan feigns nonchalance. "VIP seats, maybe? Special access?"

Her eyes widen comically. "Seriously? You can do that?"

"I can try." He nods. "Can't guarantee anything, but I'll see what I can do."

"That would be great. Thank you."

"Oh, anything for you," he says teasingly. "You've been sending me all kinds of things; it's the least I can do." She smiles in response. "Speaking of, I got a package from you the other day. It was postmarked May 5th?"

She drops the spoon into the ice cream tub and taps a finger to the side of her chin. "Ah, yes, I vaguely recall mailing something to someone around that time."

"Thanks. It's great."

"Well, we couldn't have you going without Red Vines, razors or your favourite boxers for the last few weeks of your tour, now could we?"

"Exactly." He nods solemnly. "I'm just glad they arrived when they did. I was on the verge of having to raid the lost property."

She gasps, pressing a hand to her chest. "Oh, the horror!"

"I know, right?" He grins, the sobers. "Look, you probably shouldn't send anything else now—there won't be time for it to get here. We only have a couple weeks left on operations, then we start the journey back to the US right after Father's Day."

"Yeah?" He watches with a soft smile as her face lights up, her eyes bright and shining. "Wow, I didn't realise… that's pretty soon. Though you should know, there is another package on the way already."

"Yeah?" His reaction mirrors hers. He nods to himself. "Sweet."

"So, you're gonna be home in five weeks?"

"Well, five-and-a-half, but who's counting, eh?"

"Not me." She responds immediately, then chuckles. "Wow, hasn't the time just flown by?"

"Not sure I'd say that." _Feels like fucking forever_. He tries not to wince as he prepares to deliver the potentially bad news. "Look, you should know that it's not guaranteed that we'll get back exactly on time though, and I won't know for sure until a couple of days before. The 19th is what they're aiming for, but we might get delayed."

She frowns, pushing her lower lip out deliberately in an exaggerated pout. "Wait, you're saying it might be longer than the 180 days you've been adamantly pushing for the last five months?"

"Hopefully not," he says. "But it's a possibility. Sometimes we end up having to stay in the operational area for a couple weeks longer, if ground ops need extra support."

Veronica's expression falls into one of disappointment. "Is that likely?"

"Well," he hedges. "It happens more often than not. Though, from what I've heard, we're still on schedule at the moment. I just wanted to warn you of the possibility."

"Right." She nods. "Yeah, okay. Thanks." She looks at him thoughtfully for a moment, before saying, "So, assuming for now you do get back on the 19th, what's the plan? Where do I meet you when you get off the ship?"

A feeling of warmth spreads through his chest and Logan grins. "You wanna come meet me?"

"Of course," she replies, as if any other option would be ludicrous. "Why wouldn't I?'

"I dunno." He shrugs. "I just figured, since it's a weekday, you'd be busy with work."

She shoots him an incredulous look. "Seriously? You thought I would choose tailing some philandering husband or crooked businessman over welcoming my boyfriend home after six months at sea?"

"Well, no, I just didn't want to—wait…" He frowns, her words registering fully now. "Boyfriend?"

Veronica looks down, embarrassed, and Logan can't help but grin. When she looks back up at him again, her cheeks are slightly flushed.

"Yeah, well, I know we haven't really talked about it, you know, in an official capacity or anything, but that's what we're doing here, right?" She tugs on her bottom lip with her teeth. "I'm not imagining it?"

"No, no, you're not," he says quickly, ignoring the excited flip in his chest. "I just didn't want to, you know, assume anything."

She smiles softly, warmth in her eyes. "Well, you can stop _not_ assuming."

"Okay." A smile stretches across his face as he nods. "Okay."

"Okay."

Logan lets out a light chuckle. "So, I guess we've established that we're okay."

"More than okay."

"Yeah." They share a grin, Logan's eyes roaming over her, taking in the soft waves of her hair, the curve of her lips. _What I wouldn't give to be in Neptune right now_. He sighs, murmuring to himself, "Five-and-a-half weeks. Just five-and-a-half weeks."

"Frustrated, are we?" She's smirking at him, one eyebrow raised.

He directs his gaze toward the ceiling for a moment. "You have no idea."

"Oh, I think I have some idea." She teasingly traces a finger down her neck, along her collarbone and down to her shirt.

"Oh, no, don't do that to me." He's practically begging. "I have a mission to fly in a few hours. And, unlike you, I don't have the luxury of calling you from the privacy of my own home."

Veronica presses her lips together as if she's trying not to laugh, though she lowers her hand. "Sorry."

"So, any news from Neptune?" Logan asks, changing the subject.

Veronica shifts on her bed, causing the camera to tilt slightly as she gets more comfortable.

"Well, Weevil's court date is set for September. I told you Cliff's representing him, right?" Logan nods. "Dad's been doing the best he can for his case. In theory, he has a good chance of getting off. The evidence is circumstantial at best, and the timeline doesn't even add up."

"That's good news."

As much as he and Weevil don't get on, Logan feels bad for the guy. He has first-hand experience of being accused of crimes he didn't commit. It's not fun.

"Yeah, but you know the Neptune justice system." She shakes her head. "And even if he's cleared, I think the damage has already been done. He's back on his bike, he lost the auto shop, the medical bills are piling up, and I don't think he and Jade are doing too well right now."

"Shit."

"Tell me about it." She sighs. "This town is the worst."

Logan stills. "You're not regretting coming back…?"

She shakes her head quickly. "No. No, of course not. It's just… I fucking hate what this place has become. It's even worse than when we were in high school."

"Believe me, I know."

"Yeah. Of course you do." She runs a hand through her hair. "Just wish there was more I could do. Dad's been trying to build a case on the planted evidence, but…" She looks away from the screen. "I have a feeling it's not going to be as easy as he hopes."

"No, probably not. It is Neptune, after all." Logan states.

"Yeah."

There's a slight pause before Logan says, "So, anyway, what about you? How's the bar exam preparation going?"

Veronica sighs, giving a nod. "Yeah, it's going. Still a few weeks to go, so fingers crossed I'm ready by then."

"I'm sure you'll do great," he says, as he glances at the clock on the wall. He looks back to Veronica. "Shit, I have to go. I have a briefing in 15 minutes."

"That's okay." She gives a small smile. "Go."

"Sorry."

She waves a hand. "Don't apologise. It's not your fault."

"I'll talk to you soon, okay?" he tells her. "And I'm gonna reply to your email later too. Sorry I haven't had time to yet."

"That's okay. Just get to it when you can. Talk soon," She nods with a smile. "And fly safe."

Logan smiles, giving her a quick salute. "Will do."

It's not until he reaches the ready room and slides into his chair, grinning to himself, that he realises he didn't answer her question about how to meet him off the ship.

* * *

 _From: logan. echolls at navy. mil_

 _To: vmars at gmail. com_

 _Date: 11th June 2016 06:24 PST (11th June 2016 17:24 ship time)_

 _Subject: Re: Thank you_

 _Hey V,_

 _Finally replying to this – sorry it's taken a while. It's gonna be pretty short though._

 _19) What's your favourite quote? The one that means the most to you?_

 _You know, even though my messages used to be pretty sarcastic, there was always some truth or meaning in all of them—something that spoke to me._

 _There wasn't one in particular that stood out as a life philosophy at first, but after what happened on the beach that October, I got a new perspective and there was this one quote I heard in rehab that stuck with me…_

Start by doing what's necessary; then do what's possible; and suddenly you are doing the impossible – Francis of Assisi

 _You know me, I'm not religious in the slightest, but there's something about that quote. It helped me get through each day, just trying to stay alive. After a while, it wasn't just about surviving, it was about living, about 'doing the possible'… and finally, what had once seemed like a pipe dream—flying jets in the Navy—was a reality, and I was living it. I was doing the impossible._

 _Right then, next question – number 20. Hey, when we started this, you suggested 20 Questions… are we sticking to that, or do you want to keep going?_

 _20) If you could have one superpower, what would it be?_

 _Teleportation. Without a doubt. I could be on deployment and come back and still spend time with you whenever I wanted._

 _Realised I forgot to tell you how it works for homecoming on the base. Since we're not related, I'll need to give your details to my OC so they can put you on the list. So, I'll need name, DOB and social as soon as you can let me know._

 _On the day we get back, you'll just need to go into the visitor's office, give your name, show some ID and pick up a pass. Not sure of the arrival arrangements yet, but they should tell you where to go._

 _L_

 _P.S. I managed to sort something out for you for the Padre's game - look out for something in the mail in the next couple days_

* * *

 _From: vmars at gmail. com_

 _To: logan. echolls at navy. mil_

 _Date: 12th June 2016 10:02 PST (12th June 2016 21:02 ship time)_

 _Subject: Re: Thank you_

 _Logan,_

 _Hmm, I'm intrigued about these tickets… will keep an eye out for them._

 _Thanks for sorting out the base stuff for meeting you._

 _About the questions—yeah, it was just supposed to be 20, and I guess we've covered them all now._

 _How about we have a quick-fire last round? 10 quick either/or questions to finish off and then we'll be done._

 _First off,_

 _20) If you could have one superpower, what would it be?_

 _Of course you'd pick teleportation :P. I definitely approve of that idea._

 _For me, let's see… if I could have one superpower, I think it would be… ooh, I know, I would want to read minds. I mean, think how handy that would come in at work! I wouldn't even need to get files or tail people to uncover their lies. I would just know from their thoughts._

 _God, life would be so much easier that way. Though, come to think of it, I don't think 'I read their mind' would fly as evidence in court (in fact, I know it wouldn't) :P._

 _Right then, quick-fire round. Get ready, here it comes:_

 _1)_ _Books or movies?_

 _2)_ _Chocolate or vanilla?_

 _3)_ _Hugs or kisses?_

 _4)_ _Pepsi or Coke?_

 _5)_ _Star Wars or Star Trek?_

 _6)_ _Shower in the morning or shower in the evening?_

 _7)_ _Long hair or short hair?_

 _8)_ _Dark chocolate or white chocolate?_

 _9)_ _Coffee or tea?_

 _10)_ _Sky dive or bungee jump?_

 _I'm gonna let you answer first this time though._

 _Talk soon,_

 _Veronica_

* * *

 _From: vmars at gmail. com_

 _To: logan. echolls at navy. mil_

 _Date: 14th June 2016 17:17 PST (15th June 2016 04:17 ship time)_

 _Subject: OMG!_

 _Wow, you got us VIP tickets AND a post-game meet and greet with the players?!_

 _Dad is gonna go crazy!_

 _You really didn't have to do this…. but thank you. So much._

 _He's gonna love it._

 _5 weeks…_

 _Veronica_

* * *

 _From: logan. echolls at navy. mil_

 _To: vmars at gmail. com_

 _Date: 15th June 2016 11:34 PST (15th June 2016 22:34 ship time)_

 _Subject: Re: OMG!_

 _Veronica,_

 _You know, anyone would think_ you _were actually excited about the Padres game too :P._

 _It was the least I could do to make up for you not winning that poker game, since it was kinda my fault the game got abandoned. Plus, you know, I don't have anyone to give a gift to and your dad did save my life once, so, wish him Happy Father's Day for me, and enjoy the baseball experience._

 _Hmm, not sure I like your mind-reading superpower idea. Maybe if you only used it for business purposes… but I don't think I'd be comfortable with you having access to all my thoughts. You wouldn't want to know all the dirty things I think about sometimes (or maybe you would, I don't know… then again, I don't think I'd be comfortable with you knowing!)._

 _Sure, let's go for a quickfire round. Are we quickfire-answering too? Like, one word?_

 _Here goes:_

 _1)_ _Books or movies?_ _ **Movies**_

 _2)_ _Chocolate or vanilla?_ _ **Chocolate**_

 _3)_ _Hugs or kisses?_ _ **Can't beat a good hug**_

 _4)_ _Pepsi or Coke?_ _ **Coke**_

 _5)_ _Star Wars or Star Trek?_ _ **Star Wars**_

 _6)_ _Shower in the morning or shower in the evening?_ _ **Morning**_

 _7)_ _Long hair or short hair?_ _ **On you? Any length.**_

 _8)_ _Dark chocolate or white chocolate?_ _ **Dark**_

 _9)_ _Coffee or tea?_ _ **Coffee**_

 _10)_ _Sky dive or bungee jump?_ _ **Sky**_ _ **Dive**_

 _Miss you,_

 _Logan_

* * *

 _From: vmars at gmail. com_

 _To: logan. echolls at navy. mil_

 _Date: 16th June 2016 07:06 PST (16th June 2016 18:06 ship time)_

 _Subject: Re: OMG!_

 _Gonna surprise Dad Sunday morning—he may just love you forever after this (one can hope, right?)._

 _Hmm, I hadn't thought about how to answer the quick-fire round. I'm going with one-word answers too, though if you want to expand on yours, feel free_

 _1)_ _Books or movies?_ _ **Books**_

 _2)_ _Chocolate or vanilla?_ _ **Vanilla**_

 _3)_ _Hugs or kisses?_ _ **Kisses**_

 _4)_ _Pepsi or Coke?_ _ **Coke**_

 _5)_ _Star Wars or Star Trek?_ _ **Neither**_

 _6)_ _Shower in the morning or shower in the evening?_ _ **Morning**_

 _7)_ _Long hair or short hair?_ _ **Short (on guys). On me? Long**_

 _8)_ _Dark chocolate or white chocolate?_ _ **Dark**_

 _9)_ _Coffee or tea?_ _ **Coffee**_

 _10)_ _Sky dive or bungee jump?_ _ **Sky**_ _ **Dive**_

 _So, I guess that's it for the questions. (Holding out a hand for you to shake here) It was nice getting to know you again, Logan Echolls :P._

 _Now get back home, pronto._

 _(Just kidding… well, no, not really)_

 _Veronica_


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note:** Okay, so I've been posting once a week so far, so I don't get behind on regular updates, but the story is completed now, so I'm posting early :). There will be one more chapter after this one :).

* * *

 **Chapter Eight**

Logan is due to fly the last mission of the deployment on the Tuesday afternoon after Father's Day, so he's arranged to Skype with Veronica at 08:00 that morning, which is 21:00 Monday night in Neptune. Already dressed in his flight suit ready for the briefings, he settles in front of the PC and grins when he sees she's online, quickly pressing the button to start the call.

Of course, what he doesn't expect is for Keith's face to appear on the screen instead of hers.

"Hello, Logan," Veronica's father greets with a pleasant smile.

"Oh…" He tries to hide his surprise, though not very successfully. "Uh, hi, Mr. Mars."

He glances behind Keith, into the kitchen of the new apartment, trying to catch a glimpse of Veronica.

"Sorry, I… where's Veronica?"

Keith looks amused. "She's just popped out to the store. She's making snickerdoodles and is having a slight cinnamon-related emergency. Said if you called, to tell you she'd be back soon."

Logan's stomach rumbles with both hunger and disappointment at missing out on cookies. "She's making snickerdoodles?"

Keith chuckles. "Sorry… didn't mean to rub it in."

"It's okay," Logan says dismissively, even though he would give anything to eat Veronica's homemade cookies right now. "I'll be back in a few weeks anyway."

Keith nods, and an awkward silence falls between them.

"Uh…" Logan struggles to think of something to say.

"Look, Logan," says Keith a moment later. "Since Veronica's not here, I wanted to take the opportunity to thank you for the Padres tickets this weekend. You definitely made my day, and hers too, I think… though she won't admit it." He leans closer to the screen, and in an exaggerated whisper, says, "She likes to pretend baseball is beneath her."

"Oh, it was my pleasure, sir." Logan doesn't miss the smirk that plays along Keith's lips at the formality. "Happy to help. And I'm glad you enjoyed the game—I heard the Padres won."

"We did." Keith grins. "Six-Three, baby."

"That's great." Logan smiles. "And, uh, how are you doing now? Veronica tells me you're making a good recovery."

"Yeah, I am," Keith replies. "Thanks for asking. It's been a slow process, of course, but no lasting damage, it seems."

"That's good to hear." Logan nods. "You're back at work?"

"Yes," says Keith. "Though my wonderful, loving daughter keeps telling me I'm doing too much. Tries to force me to take it easy."

He rolls his eyes and Logan smirks.

"Well, does she have a point?"

Keith's lips twitch. "There is a possibility she might."

"She's just looking out for you," he says. "She could have lost you."

"I know." Keith acknowledges. "And that's why I've been humouring her, for the most part." They share a quick, meaningful look, before Keith clears his throat. "So, uh, how are _you_ doing, Logan? Deployment's gotta be tough."

"Yeah, it is," he agrees. "Some days it's fucking terrifying—excuse my language," he adds quickly, remembering who he's talking to. Keith just shrugs and waves a dismissive hand. "But I love it—most of the time—don't know where I'd be without it."

"I get that." Keith opens his mouth to say something more, but then stops, turning to look at something off-screen, and Logan hears the rustling of bags and Veronica's voice in the background.

"Ah, looks like my dear daughter is back," Keith says, looking back at the camera. "I'll hand you over to her. Nice talking to you, Logan."

"You too, Keith."

Mr. Mars stands and walks out of shot. The sound of a murmured conversation filters through the speakers and Logan fiddles with the mouse in front of him while he waits for Veronica to appear.

"Hey, Logan," she says a moment later, moving into view as she slides into the chair. "Sorry about Dad." She looks off-screen for a second, eyes narrowing suspiciously. "Hope he wasn't interrogating you too badly."

"I heard that," comes Keith's faint tone.

"Of course not," he replies with a smile. "We were having a nice, friendly conversation. So, I hear you're making snickerdoodles?"

"Yep." She nods. "These ones actually _are_ for Wallace this time."

He pouts playfully. "So, Wallace gets them, but I don't?"

Veronica frowns, though a smirk plays on her lips. "Hey, you're the one who told me I couldn't send you any, remember? You know, since they would get crushed and go bad before they reached you." She lets out a dramatic sigh. "You only have yourself to blame here."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever."

"Look," she says, leaning closer to the camera. "Just for you, I'll make sure I have freshly-baked snickerdoodles waiting for you when you get home."

"Really?" He grins. "You're the best."

"I aim to please," she says airily.

"Yes… you do." He lets his lips curl up in a leering grin.

"I heard that, too!" comes Keith's voice again.

Logan opens his mouth to apologise, but Veronica beats him to it. "If you don't wanna hear, Daddy Dearest, you can always go back to your place."

"And miss out on your cookies?" says Keith, voice slightly muffled. "I don't think so."

Veronica rolls her eyes, causing Logan to grin.

"How about we take this somewhere a bit more private?" she suggests. "Away from prying eyes and ears."

"Sounds good to me."

The camera jostles as Veronica picks up the laptop and carries it into her bedroom, setting it down on her desk, then taking a seat.

"There, that's better." She smiles, adjusting the camera position so he can see her properly. "So, how are you? Everything good on the ship?"

"Yeah." He nods, gesturing to his flight suit. "We fly the final mission later today."

"And then that's it? You're on your way home?"

"Yep." Logan grins, a bubble of excitement beginning to grow in his chest. "Finally."

"Four weeks, right?"

"Pretty much." Logan studies her for a moment, a small smile gracing his lips. "So, uh, I realised something today… it's June 21st."

He raises his eyebrows expectantly, but Veronica just looks puzzled. "Yes, it is…"

"Oh, come on, you don't remember? Ten years ago today. Mid-summer's night…?"

"Ten years? Uh, that was 2006… what was… ? Oh." Her expression clears and then she smiles coyly. "Oh. Yes. I remember. Of course."

He smiles back. "It was the first time we—"

"Shh, don't say it." She hisses urgently. "My dad is in the next room."

His grin widens and he struggles to keep a straight face. "Sorry. Shouldn't have brought it up. My bad."

Veronica's eyes narrow suspiciously. "Oh, you knew exactly what you were doing bringing it up."

"Who me?" He tries for innocent, but from her expression, he isn't pulling it off.

She points in the direction of the kitchen. "I'm gonna have to go back out there and talk to him in a minute, Logan. Now I'm gonna have memories of that night to deal with while I do it."

"And what a night it was," he teases.

She arches an eyebrow. "So I recall. But you need to stop talking about it, because I'm not gonna survive the rest of the evening if you keep putting thoughts of sexy-times in my head."

"Sorry." He tries to mean it, he really does, but it's starting to sink in that he's going to be home soon, and he can't help feeling giddy at the prospect.

He schools his features into a more serious expression and holds his hands up in surrender.

"Changing the subject now: I gave your ID details to my OC—he's gonna put your name on the list to get on base next month."

"Oh, great." Her eyes light up. "Thanks."

"No problem. I should be able to tell exactly when we're getting in a day or two before," he says. "But until then, it's kinda up in the air."

"That's okay." She gives a small smile. "Just let me know."

"Will do."

"Thanks." She smiles. "So, uh, as you can see, my dad's here, which means I probably shouldn't spend all evening in here talking to you."

"No worries," he says. "I only have a few minutes before I need to get to briefings anyway."

They chat for a few more minutes, before his time is up and he has to sign out and head up to the Ready Room for the brief.

* * *

 _From: logan. echolls at navy. mil_

 _To: vmars at gmail. com_

 _Date: 4th July 2016 07:17 PST (4th July 2016 18:17 ship time)_

 _Subject: Best girlfriend ever!_

 _Hey V,_

 _Got your last package yesterday, though as per your instructions, I waited until this morning to open it._

 _Can I just say: it surpasses all the rest, no question. Seriously, what's not to love about my own private 4th of July party?_

 _We celebrated with ceremonies on the flight deck this afternoon, and they're setting off fireworks in a couple of hours, so I'm gonna make the most of this time I have free and have my private celebration right now._

 _Happy 4th of July, Veronica._

 _Seriously, best thing ever,_

 _Logan_

* * *

He wasn't lying—the contents of Veronica's final package are amazing. She's sent a themed 4th of July package, complete with a mini US flag, Oh My S'mores chocolate bars (which thankfully haven't melted), a small bottle of non-alcoholic champagne, a small vial filled with sand from the beach where they used to celebrate the holiday as teenagers, a photo Lilly once took of the two of them sitting around the campfire, toasting marshmallows, and a USB stick with a video file and music track loaded onto it.

Since the carrier is on the home stretch now, heading back across the Indian Ocean, tensions amongst the servicemen and women are starting to ease and everyone is a little more relaxed, if not incredibly anxious to get home. With the celebrations going on today, he has no duties and some extra time available before the fireworks.

Collecting the contents of the package, and grabbing his laptop, he finds a secluded spot on the outside deck and sets everything out in preparation. It's a hot evening, the light breeze brushing against his skin only vaguely serving to keep him cool.

Veronica's accompanying note tells him he needs to watch the video file before he does anything else. He clicks on it and can't contain his grin as Veronica's face fills the screen. She's dressed festively—though she must have filmed this back in late May or early June—clad in a red-white-and-blue striped shirt, a US flag painted on one cheek and a novelty baseball cap perched on her head.

"Happy 4th of July, Logan."

She grins widely at the camera. She's sitting on the beach, ocean waves visible in the background and the sun starting to set behind her.

"I figured, since you won't be home to celebrate, I would bring the party to you… as you said this was your favourite holiday." She gives a small shrug. "You might have to use your imagination a bit though."

She tilts the camera down to reveal an assortment of things spread out in front of her—everything she included in her package to him is there, bar the vial of sand, since she's on the actual beach and doesn't need to pretend.

"So what do you say we get this party started, huh?" she says. "Now, I don't have a real campfire—I'm not exactly talented in the art of fire-building—so I figured I'd try for the next best thing."

She gestures to the sand beside her, turning the camera until a small, round, fake fire comes into view. Logan chuckles at her makeshift attempt.

"Right, then." She angles the camera back so he can see her face again. "You should cue up the mp3 track now."

"Okay…" Logan murmurs to himself as he minimises the video screen and clicks on the music track.

"You ready? Okay, on three, start the track." She smiles mischievously. "I'm gonna do the same on this end. With any luck, we'll be in sync. One. Two. Three."

On cue, he presses the play button and grins when the unmistakeable sound of fireworks being set off filters through the speakers. It comes through in a weird sort of surround sound, as it plays on the video at the same time as the mp3.

"Cool, huh?" says Veronica. "I know I could have just had you listen through the video, but I wanted to make the experience a bit more real for you. Hope it's working."

Logan shakes his head, watching her in awe. _How does she even think of these things?_ It's a stupid question, really. Veronica has always been a creative thinker, what with all her teenage P.I. exploits back in Neptune. He should have known she'd come up with a cool idea like this to celebrate the holiday.

"Okay, now we've set the mood, you can pop open the champagne, dig into the makeshift S'mores and listen to the fireworks with me."

Logan can't keep the grin off his face as he settles back against the warm, grey metal, then unscrews the top of the alcohol-free bottle, opens the chocolate, and digs in, his eyes fixed on Veronica the whole time. She's sitting in profile, her gaze focused on the ocean, talking to him as if he's right there beside her. When the fireworks track comes to an end, she turns toward him once more, holding up her glass of fake champagne and 'clinks' it to the camera. Logan follows suit, bringing his bottle up to the screen to meet her glass, and as he does so, he feels a tightening in his chest and a lump beginning to form in his throat.

 _God, Veronica._

Pressing his lips together, he swallows, clamping down on the emotions swelling up inside him. If he doesn't, he might just lose it right here.

When the fireworks stop and the drinks and chocolate are gone, Veronica looks at him with a soft smile.

"Happy 4th of July, Logan," she repeats. "I know this wasn't quite the real thing, but I hope it was at least a semi-decent substitute." She lowers her eyes for a moment, before looking up at him again. "Hope your last couple weeks go smoothly, and next time, we'll come here together, okay?"

"Count on it," he murmurs with a nod as the video comes to an end. "See you soon, Veronica."

 _Two weeks._

* * *

"Fuck, I need off this boat." Logan flops down into his chair in the Ready Room a week later.

"Tell me about it, man," says Chaos, leaning on one of the flight planning desks and looking just as fed up. "Six months sucks ass."

Across the room, Bilbo snorts. "You guys are lucky. Just found out I'm heading out again in a few weeks."

"Seriously?" Chaos makes a face.

"What a load of shit," chimes in Logan. "What the hell for?"

Bilbo rolls his eyes, and taking a seat beside Logan. "The Truman's heading out from Norfolk next week and since I was out of currency on deployed exercises last year, I guess they figured I could make up for it now… I'm not going out 'til September, so it's only a short tour."

"That's bullshit!" exclaims Logan, sitting up. "What about your wife and kid?"

"Nature of the job." Bilbo shrugs. "You do what you gotta do."

"Still…" Logan shakes his head in disbelief.

Sure, he loves this job, but it fucking sucks sometimes. When you're a Navy officer, the military owns your ass. They say jump, you plaster a smile on your face and ask how high.

"It's okay, man. I talked to Allison; we worked it out. It's not that bad: two months at home, then four months on the ship, and, with any luck, a long shore rotation afterwards." Bilbo shrugs, pressing his hands together. "It hurts like hell to be away from them, but we'll manage. We always do."

"Geez," Logan says.

It's been difficult enough being away from Veronica for so long now. He can't imagine going home to her, already knowing he has to leave again in a few weeks. He's been counting on the fact that his shore rotation at North Island will last for the full 18 months.

* * *

It's July 18th and they're still four days out from San Diego, the carrier having been held up at the US base in Japan for a few extra days after they experienced a technical failure on board.

Logan fires off a quick email to Veronica, letting her know that he won't be home until the end of the week, and then lets out a frustrated sigh as he heads up to the flight deck. The aircraft are all grounded now, being stored back in the hangar deck, so the flight deck is clear and available for recreational use.

He goes through a quick warm-up and then joins Cosmo, Bilbo and Chaos who are already jogging around the deck. He falls into step with them, keeping his usual steady rhythm as they run a couple of long laps. The ship is somewhere near Hawaii now and temperatures are much more pleasant here—around 80 degrees, compared with well over 120 degrees in the Persian Gulf—which makes running outside much more tolerable.

"So, Mouth," starts Chaos, sounding slightly breathless as he begins to slow down, "first time taking part in the first kiss raffle, huh?"

"Guess so."

The first kiss raffle is something of a tradition for deployment homecomings. Tickets are sold for $1 each and the money raised goes to charity. Whoever holds the winning ticket disembarks the carrier first and gets the honour of the first kiss with their loved one. It's not something Logan's taken part in before, since he hasn't ever had anyone to meet him—Carrie was barely even around when he returned from training exercises during their relationship—though this time he has reason to join in and has purchased a few tickets. The draw will be made two nights before they are due to arrive into base.

"Aw, man, I totally need to win that," says Cosmo, slowing to a walk now. The others follow suit. "First off the ship? Escape the crowds? I'd pay a lot more than a dollar for that privilege."

"And here I thought you wanted to win because were so eager to kiss your loving wife after months at sea." Logan smirks.

"That too." Cosmo grins, then nudges Logan as the four of them come to a stop and begin cooling down. "So, you're goin' for it this time, huh?"

"Well, I bought a few tickets," he says with a shrug. The chances of him actually winning the raffle are tiny, so he's not expecting anything. "Same as everyone else. We'll see what happens."

"Bet you can't wait to get home," says Chaos, shooting him a cheeky grin. "Lots of Veronica time to make up for, huh?"

"Yeah, you must be horny as hell by now," adds Bilbo. "All those months being celibate, not being able to do anything about it 'cause you got a girl sitting at home..."

"Of course." Cosmo snaps his fingers. "I forgot; last time we deployed you were all over the local girls whenever we docked for shore leave. None of that this time, huh?"

"Geez, guys." Logan scowls, glancing around at his friends and squadron-mates, who are watching him with smirks and grins on their faces. "Fuck off."

He would be offended, except they're kinda right. First time he deployed, back in late 2013, he'd been single, having not reconnected with Carrie until a few months later, and not used to going months without sex. Since fraternising with the opposite sex is strictly forbidden on the carrier, he made the most of any shore leave they got during the tour to relieve the tension.

He waves a dismissive hand in their direction. "I'm outta here."

He starts heading back inside, only to find that the three of them follow him.

"Aww, sorry, man. Did I offend the poor Echolls sensibilities?" Cosmo teases.

"You know we're just yanking your chain, dude," says Bilbo, sliding an arm around his shoulders. "On account of you being all loved up this tour."

"For fuck's sake, guys; hold your horses." Logan stops, shrugs off Bilbo's arm and turns to the three of them. He tries not to roll his eyes as he says, "Veronica and I only got together two weeks before we left San Diego. I don't even know where it's gonna go when I get back." He shakes his head. "You're all acting like this is some big, monumental thing."

"Isn't it?" Chaos lifts an eyebrow. "I seem to remember you waxing lyrical about Veronica even way back in OCS. You said she was the one that got away."

 _Shit, I did say that, didn't I?_ Logan fights to keep a straight face.

"You said you still loved her and that you'd give anything to have her back, to make things right." Chaos shrugs. "Seems to me, that's pretty fucking special." He looks to the others. "We just wanna see you happy, man. After all the shit that went down with Carrie, you deserve it."

Logan sighs. _Well, fuck me._

"Okay," he says, pointing at Chaos. "Remind me never to open my mouth around you again when I'm feeling maudlin. All kinds of embarrassing stuff could come out." He lowers his hand, shrugs. "But, thanks, guys. And same goes for me, you know."

Chaos nods, then grins, clapping a hand down on his shoulder. "That's what it's about, right? We all got each other's six."

* * *

Twenty-four hours to go. Twenty-four hours until he can get off this fucking birdfarm and set foot back in the land of civilisation again; until he can see Veronica again. See… and touch… and feel… and do everything he's been fantasising about doing with her for the last six months.

It feels like the longest fucking twenty-four hours of Logan's life.

He's in his stateroom, trying to stuff all his belongings back into his duffle bag in some semblance of organisation. Sure, the Navy has instilled a high level of efficiency in him, but sometimes when he's stressed or anxious—like right now—most of it goes right out of the window.

He smiles faintly when he comes across the striped shirt Veronica sent him a few months ago, his stomach giving a small flip as he brings it to his nose and breathes in the scent of her laundry detergent. It's funny how something as innocuous as washing powder could have such a sense memory effect on the human body. One inhale and he's transported right back to high school again. To her. He's extremely glad she's stuck with tradition and is still using the same one.

Carefully folding the shirt and tucking it into the side of the bag, he reaches for the collection of photos lying haphazardly on his bed after having been taken down from their space on the bulkhead. Flicking through a few of them, he grins when he comes across the one of Veronica posing on the beach in her bikini.

 _She's fucking gorgeous. And she's my girlfriend._

He gives a soft snort at that thought. Veronica Mars; his girlfriend. Who would've thought they'd be in this position again at age 28? Despite the affirmation of their relationship status over Skype the other week, he still can't quite believe it's true… and he's more than a little anxious about what will happen between them when he gets home.

This won't just be two frantic, sex-filled weeks before he deploys. This will be 18 months of him living close by, stationed in San Diego, trying to make this new relationship work.

What if the picture he has in his mind of what their life will be like is just a fantasy? What if things between them are all awkward and weird? What if they can't navigate a relationship as adults and they just fall back into old patterns again?

What if—?

"Yo, dude, you just gonna stand there fantasising about your girl, or you gonna come help us?" Cosmo's voice cuts through the turmoil of thoughts rushing through his mind. "We got shit to move upstairs."

"Sure." Logan nods, placing the photos inside a book and shoving it into his bag. "I'll be right there."

* * *

This is it. July 22nd.

It's mid-afternoon and the carrier is just a few minutes out from North Island base.

Logan is in position on the edge of the flight deck, decked out in his summer whites, his cover in position on his head, hands clasped behind his back. He can see the large crowd of people gathered on the pier and his heart starts to race. Veronica's there, somewhere. He emailed her last night to let her know what time they were coming in and she said she'd be there.

Logan swallows, nervously fidgeting with his hands. He's going to see her again soon. He's so not ready.

He didn't win the first kiss raffle, which actually he's kinda glad about. As he told the guys, he only really took part because everyone else was—and because it's for charity—but really, he'd rather remain incognito today if he can; he just wants to find Veronica and go home. Winning the first kiss would have meant all eyes on him, with photos and videos, and the press hanging around, pushing mics and cameras in his face. After everything he went through before leaving for deployment, he'd rather not draw attention to himself again.

The carrier eases slowly towards the port, seemingly taking forever to reach it. And even when it does finally dock and come to a stop, it's still going to be a while before he can step onto dry land again. First, there are all the logistics to sort out—securing the ship, shutting everything down and setting up the gangplanks—and then of course, being the military, there's an order to these things: first person off the ship will be the first kiss winner, then next are the new dads who will be meeting their newborn children for the first time—so Hughes will be one of those. After that, they will disembark in rank order, from highest to lowest. There are four officer's ranks above Logan's, so it's gonna take some time.

"Well, we made it," says Chaos to his left. Logan turns his head to see a grin on his squadron-mate's face. "Home, sweet home."

Logan smiles, giving a short nod. "We did. Sarah meeting you?"

"Yep." Chaos nods. "At least I hope so—she thinks she can get off work. How 'bout you… Veronica here?"

"Yeah, she said she would be." Logan's eyes search the crowds down on the pier, though the chance of actually spotting her there is slim to none. "No idea how I'm gonna find her though."

"Tell me about it." Chaos shoots him a grin. "There's a fuckload of people down there. So, you looking forward to seeing her?"

Logan just gives him an incredulous look. "Nine years, dude. We only got two weeks together before this. Yeah, I'd say I'm fucking looking forward to it."

"Ah, so the next few days will be spent locked in the bedroom then, huh?"

"In theory, yes," he says. "In practice? I don't know. I'm fucking exhausted, man. I could sleep for a week."

"Yeah, takes a toll, being on the go all the time." Chaos shrugs. "Barely even notice it when you're out there." He nods to the ocean behind them. "But once you get home, it suddenly hits and you can barely keep your eyes open."

They have to wait another hour and a half before it's their turn to disembark the carrier. Cosmo and Bilbo join them after the first thirty minutes and they spend the next hour passing the time telling stupid stories, while trying not to get frustrated with the long wait. When it's finally time, Logan grabs his duffle bag, anticipation thrumming through him, slings it over his shoulder and starts the long walk down the gangplank and off the ship.

It's overwhelming at first; there are thousands of people in front of him, shouting, crying, cheering. He's surrounded by couples and families hugging and kissing, by kids both laughing and crying. Normally, he would slink off the ship as inconspicuously as possible, avoiding as many of the crowds as he could, and get off the base ASAP, but this time, he can't do that, and he doesn't even want to.

He needs to find Veronica.

His nerves are shot, his heart racing, as his eyes frantically search the crowd for her. It takes several minutes of Logan feeling like an idiot, wandering around, trying to spot her, before he glimpses a familiar blonde head several feet away, amongst the throng of people.

"Veronica?" he murmurs, his stomach doing a weird flip as he steps in her direction.

Weaving through the crowd, heart pounding loudly in his head, he tries to get to her.

"Veronica?" He bumps into a young mother holding a toddler, and raises his hand to steady her. "Sorry, ma'am."

And then there she is, right in front of him, just a few feet away. He comes to a stop, drinking her in, unable to look away. She's looking at him with a small smile, her blue eyes brighter and prettier in person than he remembers. He swallows harshly, eyes raking over her.

She looks incredible: her hair is down and slightly wavy, and despite the warm weather, she's wearing the black leather jacket that looks amazing on her. The odd thing is, she's not in her usual jeans and combat boots… she's actually wearing a dress. It's not the usual dressed-up, Stepford-wife affair often seen at navy homecomings, but it looks incredible on her; it's black-and-white, form-fitting at the top, flaring out to a full, flowing skirt which falls to just above her knees. And to top it off, she's wearing heels, in the form of stylish ankle boots.

 _Jesus_. Logan swallows again, stepping forward. She looks up at him as he comes to a stop in front of her, her eyes following his every move. He takes a breath, then opens his mouth to speak.

"Hi."

"Hi."


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

Logan's transfixed; he can't take his eyes off her, even as she steps towards him, even as he lets his duffle fall to the ground, even as she wraps her arms around his neck and presses herself against him and hugs him tightly.

It takes only a second to react, to wind his arms around her back, to hold her as close as he can. As he buries his face in her neck, inhaling the familiar scent of her perfume, all the emotion and exhaustion bubbles up and spills over into relief. He closes his eyes, savouring the moment. Veronica's already up on her tiptoes, but he tightens his arms around her even more, pulling her higher, closer.

 _God, I've missed her so much._

She hugs him for what seems like forever, but Logan doesn't care; he doesn't want to let go. The feel of her in his arms is like… it's fulfilment.

Eventually, she gives a sniff and loosens her grip, letting her arms slide down over his shoulders, coming to rest on his chest as she lowers her heels to the ground. Logan doesn't let go, only relaxes his arms slightly so she can look up at him. There are unshed tears in her eyes.

"What, no kiss?" he jokes softly.

She gives him a watery smile. "Can't beat a good hug, right?"

He feels a tightening in his chest as she repeats his answer from their quick-fire round of questions the other week.

 _Hugs or kisses? Can't beat a good hug_

"True… but if I recall, your poison is kisses," he murmurs, eyes flicking to her lips. "Can't have you missing out."

She smiles softly, rising up again, her mouth not even a centimetre from his, her voice barely above a whisper as she says, "Guess not."

Logan studies her for just a second, drinking her in, marvelling at how close she is after so long, before he lowers his mouth to hers. It's extremely soft at first, just a barely-there brush of lips, but it sends a jolt of electricity pulsing through him all the same. She moves her lips very slightly against his and that's all it takes; he tugs her closer, deepening the kiss as his hand slides under her hair, cupping her jaw, fingers winding around back of her neck.

She's warm and inviting and everything he's been missing. His whole body's on fire, fingertips tingling, heart pounding, head spinning, as she kisses him, once, then twice, then parts her lips, tongue darting out to trace his bottom lip. He groans, the sound muffled against her mouth, and tightens his other hand on the small of her back, pressing her even closer as he complies with her unspoken request and grants her access.

 _Best kiss ever_ , he decides as her tongue tangles with his, the contact sending shivers down his spine. _Of course, that might have something to do with the fact that it's been six months since the last one._

Her hand slides up, coming to rest on his cheek as their movements slow, becoming small, gentle kisses, and then she pulls back. He keeps his eyes closed for several seconds, just savouring the moment, and when he finally opens them, he finds her watching him with glazed eyes and a soft, secret smile.

"Wow…"

"Yeah, that about sums it up," he manages, his voice throaty.

"You wanna get out of here?"

Her hand covers his on her neck, where it's buried in her hair, and brings it down between them, linking their fingers. After going so long without her touch, the contact seems surreal.

"God, yes," he agrees quickly. "Don't wanna lay eyes on that boat again for a very long time."

He leans down, grabs his bag from the ground and slings it over one shoulder, following as she leads him through the crowd toward the parking lot.

"You brought my car?" he asks when she stops in front of the familiar BMW.

"Yeah." She smiles. "I thought you might be itching to get back behind the wheel."

Logan hesitates; as much as he'd love to, he really is exhausted. His body is majorly depleted of energy, and if he's honest, he's not in any state to drive safely.

"Thanks." He nods. "But, you'll have to take the lead on this one. I'm too tired."

"Oh." She looks a little surprised. "Okay… no problem."

She grins then, stepping forward to open the passenger door, and gesturing to it grandly.

"In that case, your chariot awaits, milord."

"Why, thank you, milady."

He eases the duffle bag onto the backseat, then turns to her. Bracing his hands on the door between them, he leans forward, gives her a quick peck on the lips, before sliding into his seat.

He lets out a soft groan at the feel of the soft, plush leather beneath him.

"Oh, man. I'd forgotten how amazing these seats are."

Veronica laughs lightly as she shuts the door and then moves around to the driver's side. She gets in, fastens her seatbelt and pulls out of the parking lot.

Logan pulls his cover off his head and settles in for the drive back to Neptune, closing his eyes, enjoying the feel of the warm, early-evening California breeze against his skin. There's so much to talk about, to catch up on, but right now, he just wants to sleep, his body drained, both physically and emotionally, from the last six months.

A few minutes later, the car comes to a stop, jerking him out of his doze, and he opens his eyes, lifting his head in confusion.

"What's going on?" He takes in Veronica's amused smile, then notices their surroundings, realisation dawning. "We're at my place?"

She raises an eyebrow. "You didn't think we were gonna drive all the way to Neptune when you have a perfectly good house just five minutes from the base?"

"Oh." Logan blinks. "Yeah. Right. Of course."

He didn't even think about going to his own house—he's just been assuming he'll go back to Neptune with Veronica.

She grins, jerking her head in the direction of the house as she opens the driver's side door. "Come on, sleepyhead, let's get inside."

Logan nods, climbing out of the car and grabbing his bag from the backseat as Veronica heads for the house. As he closes the passenger side door, he pauses for a moment, eyes fixed on Veronica as she digs through her purse for her keys, his gaze raking up and down her body.

"Hey, you coming, or what?"

He blinks, lifting his eyes to her face, finding her watching him expectantly.

"Sure." He nods quickly, hiding a smile as he hoists the bag over his shoulder and follows her into the house.

The moment he steps through the door, the mouth-watering aroma of baking assaults his senses and he turns to her with a grin.

"You've been baking," he says. "Cookies?"

 _Please say snickerdoodles. Please say snickerdoodles._

"Of course." She nods. "I did say I'd have freshly-baked snickerdoodles for you, didn't I?"

"You are the best." He can't contain his smile as he dumps his bag on the floor and heads for the kitchen.

His eyes light up when he spots the plate of snickerdoodles in the middle of the island. Reaching for one, he takes a bite, moaning in satisfaction as the cookie goodness hits his taste-buds.

"Oh my God," he says through a mouthful of cookie. "These are amazing."

"Thought you might like them." Veronica is leaning by the doorway, watching him with amusement.

"You have no idea how good it is to eat real food again." He swallows, then glances toward the fridge. "Is there milk?"

She looks like she's trying to hide a smirk. "You want milk and cookies?"

"Yes, I want milk and cookies," he says. "I haven't even _seen_ fresh milk in almost six months."

Veronica walks over to the fridge, pulls out a carton of milk, then grabs a glass and holds both out to him, biting her lip to stop from grinning.

"Here. Knock yourself out."

"Thanks."

He pours a large glass of fresh, cold milk, and promptly downs it in one.

 _Fuck, I've missed milk. And Veronica's cookies._

When he places the glass down on the counter again, he finds Veronica standing beside the island, hands tucked in her jacket pockets, looking a little awkward.

"So…"

"So…" he says, resting a hand on the counter.

She hesitates for a moment, before launching into a flurry of words. "How was the trip back? Are you tired? You must be tired. I know I would be if I'd been on that ship for so long. You want something to eat? I don't have anything prepared, but I could make something. What would you—?"

"Veronica, hey." Logan moves in front of her, placing a hand on her arm. "Stop."

"Sorry," she mutters, avoiding his gaze.

"The trip was okay; it was long and kinda frustrating, but I'm home now," he answers her questions in turn. "You don't need to make anything to eat—I'm fine with the cookies. But I am tired. Fucking exhausted, actually."

"Right. Okay." She nods. "Well, you should probably get some sleep, then."

"Yeah, I really should."

"Well, uh, the bed's made up." She gestures toward the bedroom. "Clean sheets and everything. If you wanna get some rest."

"Thanks." He nods. "I think I will."

Her face falls, disappointment in her eyes—disappointment she's trying hard to conceal—and he forces a smile.

 _This is starting to get awkward._

Not really knowing what else to do, he steps past her, picks up his bag, and heads for the bedroom. Once inside, he drops his stuff by the door, making a note to do laundry tomorrow, and starts unbuttoning his shirt. He really is beat, in fact, he's not sure how he's still awake right now. He barely slept last night, with all the preparations for coming into port, and he's feeling the effects now, lightheaded and dizzy.

He hesitates, though, fingers on the final button, when he notices the small touches of Veronica in the room. Nothing big, since she hasn't spent much time here, but they're her things nonetheless: her toiletry bag on the dresser, one of her sweaters draped over the chair, her shoes placed on the floor just underneath.

She's right here. In his house. Just down the hall. He can actually reach out and touch her. And it's been six very long months.

 _Fuck it._

He turns, strides back out of the room and down the hall to the kitchen, where Veronica is putting the milk back in the fridge. He advances as she closes the door, reaching her just as she turns.

"Logan?"

He presses her up against the fridge, cupping her jaw in his hands, thumbs stroking her cheeks, as he lowers his head towards hers.

Lifting her chin, his mouth just millimetres from hers, he murmurs, "Who needs sleep anyway?"

She gives a soft moan as their lips meet, arms looping around his neck, mouth opening eagerly, letting him in. He pins her against the cool metal, nipping, licking, sucking… pouring six months of lust and longing and frustration into the kiss. She rises up, trying to get closer, and he slides his hands down to her waist, then lower, curving them around her ass. Taking the hint, she jumps up and wraps her legs around his hips.

Veronica breaks the kiss, dipping her head, her tongue darting out to lick the sensitive spot just beneath his jaw. He sucks in a sharp breath, heat shooting to his groin. She shifts against him, her hips rocking gently and bringing her lower body into direct contact with his. Logan hisses.

"Sleep is overrated," she whispers in his ear. "Fuck, I've missed you."

"Me, too." He groans. "I want you so much."

She pulls back then, looks into his eyes. Her face is flushed, lips swollen, hair slightly mussed. "You sure you shouldn't get some sleep first?"

He smiles crookedly. "Probably, but I think I'll manage."

"Okay."

She studies him for a moment, then leans forward and captures his mouth with hers once more, her palm cradling the side of his neck, fingers scraping against his scalp. What starts off as a soft kiss, full of promise of things to come, quickly escalates until they're both gasping for breath. Logan adjusts his grip on her thighs, bare under her dress, then spins, stumbling slightly, and places her on the island counter. She pulls back a little, shrugging out of the leather jacket she's still wearing and pushing it to one side on the counter.

"You know, I'm revising my earlier opinion," he says, glancing down, marvelling at how the dress hugs her in all the right places. "You should only wear _this_."

Veronica smiles. "You like?"

He nods, then smiles. "You look gorgeous."

"Yeah, well." She shrugs. "You know dresses aren't really my thing, but I figured, it's your homecoming, so why not?" She grins, a glint in her eye. "After all, easy access, right?"

 _God_ , _Veronica,_ thinks Logan. _What are you doing to me?_

"There is that." He grins, sliding his hand up her thigh, then skimming his fingers across her warm skin and down between her legs, brushing against the soft, silky material of her panties.

"God…" She sighs, her eyes sliding closed for a moment.

When she lifts her head and looks at him again, her pupils are dark and dilated, filled with lust. It sends a shiver down his spine.

Her hands slide up over his chest and under his shirt, easing it over his shoulders. He shrugs it off, letting it fall to the floor as she reaches for the hem of his t-shirt and tugs it up too. He helps her pull it over his head and it joins the shirt on the floor.

Veronica's lips curl up into a predatory smile as she flattens her hands over his bare torso, spreading her fingers across his chest. Logan looks down at them with a smile.

"Is it me," she starts softly, tone filled with awe, "or are you even more cut now?"

He gives a one-shoulder shrug. "Well, there wasn't much else to do in the downtime except go to the gym."

She tugs her bottom lip between her teeth, looking up at him from beneath her lashes. It's fucking sexy.

"I like."

Her hands slide down over his stomach, fingers splayed, tracing every ridge of his abdomen, until she reaches his pants. She hooks her index fingers in two of the belt loops and tugs him closer, leaning in until her lips are just barely brushing his, her voice a soft whisper.

"Fuck me, Logan. Right here, right now. Don't go slow."

 _Oh, holy fuck. She's gonna be the death of me._

His stomach muscles contract involuntarily beneath her hands, heat pooling in his groin. He swallows.

"If you insist." His voice comes out gravelly, almost cracking as he forces the words out.

Veronica's fingers deftly unbuckle his belt, then tug down the zipper. With one hand, she reaches for her jacket, dips into the pocket and pulls out a small, square packet, while the other slips beneath his boxers teasingly.

"Fuck," he grinds out, hips bucking, watching with hooded eyes as she tears open the packet, then releases him from his boxers and rolls the condom on.

Logan doesn't even bother to remove her panties, just tugs them aside, and pushes in.

"Fuck," he repeats, dropping his head to her shoulder, lips parting and eyes closing at the delicious sensation of filling her for the first time in months. She's tight, and hot, and wet, and it's the most amazing feeling in the world.

"Oh my God," murmurs Veronica, her hands coming up to his shoulders, gripping tightly, clutching at his skin, holding herself steady as she gets used to him again. "Wow."

"Yeah…" he mutters, stroking once, twice, then setting a quick, steady rhythm.

"How…" she manages, between thrusts, "did we survive… the last… six months … without… doing this?"

"Hell if I know." His voice is muffled by her shoulder. He lifts his head, reaches up to brush her hair back off her face, and looks at her, expression full of lust. "Let's not do that again."

"Okay."

Of course, there'll be more deployments in the future, more time spent apart, but Logan is absolutely _not_ going to think about that right now. Instead, he grins at the sight of her flushed cheeks, the way her lips are parted, breath coming fast, and leans in, sucking her bottom lip into his mouth.

"I'm not gonna last much longer," he murmurs when they part, resting his forehead on hers. "It's been too long."

"That's okay," she whispers back, her fingers stroking the hair at the back of his neck. "Though you might need to work some magic with those talented fingers of yours if you want me to get there with you."

"Yes, ma'am." He lifts his hand to his temple, giving a cheeky salute, before sliding it under her dress and between her legs, thumb circling her clit.

"God, yeah… right there."

He strokes a gentle, but steady rhythm with his fingers, applying pressure just where he knows she needs it, until she's gasping with pleasure. Increasing his pace, he rocks into her again and again, urgent and needy, feeling the pleasure building, the tell-tale tightening in his stomach. Veronica's arms tighten around his neck, holding him close, kissing him urgently, whimpering into his mouth as her inner muscles begin to flutter around him.

She comes with a soft cry, tearing her mouth from his, gasping breaths escaping her lips. Logan follows a few moments later, spilling into her, clutching her tight as he rests his forehead on her shoulder. They stay like that, entwined together with Veronica perched on the counter, catching their breath, for several long moments, until the relative silence is interrupted by a breathy laugh.

"That was incredible," She gives a delighted chuckle. "Like, seriously."

"It was."

"Guess that's our reward for six months of forced celibacy."

Logan lifts his head, grins at the elated expression on her face. "Oh, there's gonna be a lot more where that came from. We've got half a year to make up for… and nine years before that." He pauses. "After I've gotten some sleep, though."

Veronica looks at him, her expression soft, a half-smile on her face as she strokes the hair at the back of his neck. She presses her forehead to his. "I can't wait."

* * *

It's mid-morning when Logan stirs, stretching languidly in the large, comfortable bed. There's certainly something to be said for a good mattress—the bunks on the carrier definitely leave something to be desired—but this mattress, the one he spent a shit-ton of money on last year to make sure it was of the highest quality possible, is absolutely incredible.

He pries his eyes open slowly, blinking at the morning light filtering through the curtains, then groans, rolling onto his back and covering his face with his hand. Despite being out like a light within five minutes of climbing into bed last night, and getting almost a full twelve hours of sleep, he still feels sluggish.

 _Guess it's gonna take a few days to catch up._

After their, uh… energetic activities on the kitchen counter last night, Veronica noticed he was barely standing upright and shooed him off to bed, assuring him she would join him later. When he protested, giving her his best forlorn pout, she shoved playfully at his chest and confessed that if she went with him now, she wouldn't be able to keep her hands off him… which wouldn't bode well for his much-needed sleep. So, he agreed reluctantly and dragged himself off to the bedroom.

Logan lowers his hand from his face and turns on his side again, gaze falling on Veronica, who is sleeping soundly beside him. A soft smile plays on his lips as he observes her: she's curled in the foetal position, one hand resting beneath her cheek, the other tucked under her chin. Her hair is endearingly mussed on one side. She looks gorgeous.

He slides a hand under his own cheek, mirroring her position as he watches her sleep. Reaching out, he gently strokes her cheek with the back of his knuckles, then runs a thumb along her bottom lip. She shifts, pursing her lips and angling her face into the pillow, away from his touch, but doesn't wake.

His smile widens and he leans in, intending to kiss her, but then pulls back when he remembers he hasn't showered yet and is still gross and grimy from the ship. It's with a reluctant sigh that he takes one last look at her sleeping form and slides out of the bed, padding into the bathroom.

He takes a long, luxurious shower, revelling in the plentiful hot, steaming water, then shaves and brushes his teeth.

 _That's better,_ he muses, studying his reflection in the mirror as he dries off. _I actually feel human again._

Towel wrapped around his waist, he heads back into the bedroom again, running a second, smaller towel over his hair to dry it. In the bed, Veronica stirs, letting out a soft mumble before opening her eyes, searching him out when she realises he's not beside her.

"What are you doing all the way over there?" Her voice comes out throaty and sleep-filled.

Logan smiles, dropping the hand-towel and perching on the edge of the bed. "I needed a shower."

She frowns slightly, then tuts, giving a shake of her head and pulling back the covers. "Get back in here."

Logan grins. "With pleasure."

The other towel falls to the floor and he slides under the sheet, settling on his side again, facing her.

She smiles softly, eyes shining.

"Hi."

"Hi."

"I kinda can't believe you're here," she says softly. "It felt like you'd never get home."

"I know," he replies. "I keep expecting to wake up and find I'm still on the ship."

He reaches out to tuck her hair behind her ear, letting his hand rest on her neck, thumb gently stroking her cheek. He studies her for a moment, taking in her beauty in the flesh for once, before leaning in and pressing his mouth to hers in a soft, gentle kiss.

"Mmm, minty-fresh," she observes, opening her eyes when he pulls back.

"I missed you," he says, a smile tugging at his lips.

"Me, too." She nods. "Seven months ago, I didn't think I'd ever see you again… and now, I can't imagine _not_ ever seeing you again." She frowns adorably. "Did that even make sense?"

"It did." He smiles. "And me too."

He leans in again, kisses her more deeply this time, urging her mouth open, tongue sliding inside.

 _God, I can't get enough of her._

She responds for only a moment, looking apologetic as she pulls away.

"Sorry, it's just… you're all clean and fresh and I have morning breath."

Logan shrugs. "I don't mind."

She makes a face. "I do. Plus, I need the bathroom." She moves to get out of the bed. "I'll be right back."

Sinking back against the pillows with a sigh, Logan lets her go, gaze trailing after her as she heads out of the room. She's wearing a thin tank-top and tiny sleep shorts, legs on full display, and he notices she's picked up some colour since moving back to California, her skin now sporting a soft, golden glow. She looks amazing; so much better than his imagination could ever conjure up on the ship.

When she reappears a few moments later, it's with a seductive expression on her face, her bottom lip caught between her teeth, eyes dark and full of promise as she walks toward him.

"Come here," he says, gaze roaming her body hungrily.

She smiles, slipping beneath the covers again. Logan curls his arm around her waist, tugging her against him, and slides a leg between hers. He kisses her hungrily and she responds with fervour, bringing her hand up to the back of his neck, holding him close.

"Mmm." She sighs against his mouth and it vibrates right through him, sending a shiver down his spine.

She moves with him as he urges her onto her back and settles between her legs. He's hard already, just the sight of her enough to send the blood to rushing to his cock after so long. The material of her sleep shorts brushes against him and he shudders at the sensation..

"So, Ms. Mars," he murmurs between kisses, "ready to be thoroughly ravished?"

She grins. "Born ready."

He grins, kisses her again, then rises to his knees above her, placing his hands on her waist, beneath her tank top, and slowly sliding his palms up over her skin, bringing the thin material with them. A shuddering sigh escapes her lips in response and she lifts her shoulders so he can pull the top over her head. He tosses it to one side and it catches on the bedside table, knocking his alarm clock to the floor. Logan winces as the radio clicks on and soft music fills the room.

He moves to pick it up, but Veronica stops him with a palm on his chest and a shake of her head. "Leave it."

"Okay," he whispers, looking down at her for a moment, before lowering his head again, kissing a trail down her neck and over her collarbone.

The music spilling from the alarm clock is vaguely familiar: a soothing, almost haunting, classical piece. A single piano plays triads, blending effortlessly with the rich, rounded tones of a cello. It creates a calm, almost ethereal atmosphere in the room and everything suddenly comes into sharp focus; it's just him and Veronica, together, in their own private bubble, rediscovering each other.

He palms her breasts, thumbs brushing over her nipples, savouring the feel of her, relearning her curves. She sighs beneath him, her hands coming to his shoulders as he dips his head and replaces one hand with his mouth, circling his tongue around her nipple, flicking and licking until she's writhing beneath him, fingers digging into his shoulders.

Kissing his way down her stomach, he shoots her a quick smile before hooking his fingers in the waistband of her shorts and tugging both them and her panties down over her hips. He discards them on the floor, then kneels between her legs, taking a moment to appreciate the beauty of her body, before leaning in and placing a gentle kiss to her clit.

"God, Logan…" Her back arches, her fingers clutching at his hair.

He grins, then goes back for more, licking and sucking at her clit as his fingers gently trace her lower lips, then plunge into her wet heat.

"Oh my God." She sucks in a sharp breath. "Yes…"

As he teases and nibbles, he lets the music guide him, working her up, then stopping just before she reaches climax, holding off on finally sending her over the edge until the cello reaches a haunting crescendo.

"Oh, holy fuck," mutters Veronica, hips rocking, body seeking even more pleasure as she gasps and writhes beneath him. "You are amazing at that."

Logan grins, sliding up over her, supporting his upper body on his elbows as he lets his weight rest over her, his arousal pressing against her intimately. He lowers his mouth to her ear.

"All part of the service, ma'am." He murmurs softly. "And there's so much more to come."

"Yes, there is." She turns her head, kissing him hungrily.

There's a slightly ungainly moment as Logan rummages in the bedside drawer for condoms, his fingers fumbling with the package when he tries to get it open, but then he's pressing against her intimately and all the awkwardness disappears. The music is still playing, the piano and cello in a quiet lull, and as Logan enters her slowly, dragging a strained whimper from her lips, he lets the music set the pace again, stroking deeper as the melody builds, then slowing when there's a lull.

It's intense and passionate and emotional and everything he's been missing for the last six months. Veronica's clutching at his back, legs hooked around his, her skin warm and smooth, as soft gasps escape her lips, turning to moans of pleasure as he brings her closer and closer to climax.

As the cello begins to build toward another crescendo, he thrusts deeper, the smooth, rich notes reverberating right through him. Veronica lets go with a cry of pleasure, her inner muscles pulsing around him, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through his whole body. Right as the cello reaches its top note, he comes, hips bucking, her name flying from his lips.

Spent, his arms give way and he collapses onto her, not having the energy to hold himself up. She wraps her arms around his neck, hugging him close, and kisses him thoroughly. Halfway through the kiss, he feels her lips twitch and then she's giggling into his mouth.

With a smile, he pulls back, looks down at her. "What?"

"You're here," she says with a wide smile. "You're actually here, with me… inside me. It doesn't seem real."

Logan grins. "Oh, it's real. Believe me."

He kisses her again, then pulls out, shifting onto his back and discarding the condom, before tugging her close. She snuggles up beside him, head nestled against his chest, arm slung around his waist and one leg curled around his. Logan curls his arm around her and presses a soft kiss to the top of her head. They lie together in silence, just catching their breath, coming down from the high.

"So, uh…" she starts after a long moment. "Sleep well?"

Logan chuckles. "Very well. Thank you."

She lifts her head, grins at him. "Feel rested?"

"Right now? No, I'm kinda spent."

She chuckles, snuggles closer. "Hungry?"

"You know, I think you're doing this the wrong way around," he says teasingly. "The pleasantries normally come _before_ the sex, not after."

"So?" She shrugs against him. "Humour me. I'm enjoying being able to exchange pleasantries with you."

He tightens his arm around her. "Me, too."

A comfortable silence falls between them and Logan takes a moment to enjoy the feel of her in his arms.

"So, I guess you'll be needing another shower now."

"Guess so," he agrees, then grins. "But only if you come with me."

"Oh, I think I can arrange that." She presses a gentle kiss to his chest, then shifts, moving to straddle him. "But I believe we have some more catching up to do before that."

* * *

Four hours later, after showers and a late lunch of grilled cheese sandwiches, they're on the road to Neptune. Logan, feeling much more human now, takes the wheel, and he can't stop smiling widely as he speeds down the PCH. He's back in California, wind rushing past his ears, Veronica by his side, her fingers entwined with his. Every now and then, he catches her watching him with a blissful smile and the sight of it causes a rush of warmth to flow through his chest.

He lifts her hand to his mouth, placing a gentle kiss to her knuckles, then lowers their clasped hands to his thigh, thumb stroking her skin as he drives.

It's perfect.

It's coming home.

 ** _End_**

* * *

 **Author's Note:** I hope you've all enjoyed the story, and thank you for all the favourites and reviews :). There will be another installment to the series, but it might be a while before I can post... for two reasons:

1) I haven't started it yet and I have another story to write before the end of this month

and

2) In a few weeks, I am moving overseas for 3 months, to one of the remotest parts of the world (I won't even be able to receive mail there). I will have access to a limited internet connection and I'll try my best, but it might be so slow that I can't physically post anything between mid-Nov and mid-Feb.


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